A Place to Call 'Home'
by Michael C. Ryan
Summary: What if the toys never made it home to Andy's in time?
1. Old Rope and a Rusty Fish Hook

Author's Note:

And so it begins – or ends, if you will. The second alternate ending for _Toy Story 3_, once again featuring Michael Ryan. This will comprise multiple chapters rather than being a one-shot like the first alternate ending, _So Long, Partner_. I'd just like to remind people that this was thought up – not written – far back before the movie came out after only seeing a couple of trailers.

This story begins as the toys are on their way to the dump in the garbage truck. A huge note: Do not imagine for yourself the dump you saw in the movie. The layout is different, perhaps slightly more like the one in the video game (except not as complex, of course). In terms of vision and inspiration, all I had for my imagination was that Lego set released before the movie even came out.

Enjoy, and if you like what you read here, don't hesitate to visit my profile page or the main Michael Ryan website; the link's in the profile.

* * *

Darkness would have consumed the frightened toys if not for Buzz Lightyear's glow-in-the-dark space suit. But that slim amount of light did not bring comfort to them as they waited in silence for something; anything to offer up a chance to escape the fate they all worried about.

Suddenly, the garbage truck jolted, nearly knocking them off their feet, and began to tip. Frantic, they noticed light growing from the back end of the truck.

Woody held on to a piece of cardboard just before the trash they stood in began to slide towards the light. "Hold on, we're going in!" he shouted as the toys tumbled down several feet against their will with the rest of the refuse.

It was when the truck drove away that Woody hastily pushed away the trash that blocked him from the surface. Catching his breath, he looked around. "Guys?" he cried. "Can you hear me?"

He was relieved to see, one by one, the toys poking out from beneath the waste. Mr. Potato Head was assisting his wife to her feet as Rex managed to roll himself over from his back. Before long, they were all accounted for.

"What do we do?" Slinky asked, shaking off the bubble gum wrap stuck on his tail.

"There's no way we're climbing up there," Hamm affirmed, looking up at the edge of the high cliff from where they had been discarded.

Through a quick look-around, Jessie noticed the trash compactor site in the distance. "Look, y'all! Over there!"

Mr. Potato Head was less than impressed. "You want us to go _towards_ certain death?"

"No, she's right," Woody concurred. "The people run that place during the day. There's gotta be skywalks and everything. It's our safest bet."

"Let's move," Buzz instructed, leading the way.

Determinedly, they hiked down the mountain of trash and across the landfill under the cover of nightfall. They stumbled over anything from empty spray bottle cans to used clothing. After mistakenly stepping on something hard, Rex recoiled at the sight of the broken toy train he remembered seeing at the daycare centre.

It took a while, but the toys eventually reached the large building. To ensure the true vacancy of the area, Woody made them hide behind one of the lined-up bulldozers before they proceeded forward.

"Over here," Buzz announced. He ran up a concrete ramp towards a steel door, the others following close behind.

Hamm turned to Mr. Potato Head. "I'll bet you that flattened soda can over there that it's locked."

Able to get to the door handle through impressive manoeuvring between the wall and a nearby generator, Buzz attempted to twist the knob several times before confirming Hamm's prediction. "Blast," he muttered.

"'Told you."

"What now?" Mrs. Potato Head asked.

The toys heard those familiar squeaking noises, and they turned to where the Little Green Aliens were standing on ground level by the large roll-up door. "The mystic portal," one of them declared as the other two stared up at it in awe.

At the bottom, they perceived a gap not nearly large enough for a human to pass through, but almost certainly enough for toys.

"Those are my boys," Mr. Potato Head proclaimed proudly. They all climbed down from the high-rising pavement and joined the Aliens.

Woody turned to his friends. "Now no matter what's on the other side, remember to stay together."

"We got it, Woody," Jessie proclaimed.

Without a final word to each other in the eagerness to get back to their home, they all ducked through the breach simultaneously, a bit of a struggle for Rex's much more complex build, and into the factory.

Hamm was the first to speak when they got on the other side. "So, can anybody else see anything?"

"Watch your step, guys," Woody reminded them.

After a few more seconds, their eyes were eventually able to adjust to what once seemed like jet-black darkness. They were soon, thanks to some windows installed and the light illuminating through the roll-up garage door, able to see inside the massive industrial unit.

"Whoa, Nelly," Slinky mumbled, stepping forward. "How're we gonna- _Whoa_!"

"Slink!" Woody shouted, leaping forward to catch Slinky's bottom half as his top half disappeared over the edge of the ground they stood on. Buzz instinctively did the same.

Slinky quickly came to a sudden halt from sliding down a metal shaft and was dangling from his spring. He shook his head, ears flopping around with him, until he was able to see the immense layer of garbage only feet below him.

"Slinky," Woody called. "'You okay?"

"Yeah. Pull me up."

They were quick to comply; together, Buzz and Woody pulled him back up to them. "What part of 'watch where you step' didn't you understand?" Woody asked him, rubbing the dog's head, undoubtedly relieved.

"Hey, look," Rex pointed his little arm at a long, metal catwalk that led farther into the factory. "Could we follow that out?"

Contemplating over the seemingly simple idea, it was not until they noticed the vast amount of free space between where they stood and the suspended walkway that they began to give it second thoughts.

"Great, Rex. And how do you propose we get there? Jump?"

"Now, now, we'll think of something."

"We're going to need some sort of bridge, or a rope even."

Bullseye, from the back of the group, suddenly perked his head up as though recollecting something. He snuck back out through the gap to the outside.

"Bullseye?" Jessie noticed.

The others waited inquisitively. Before long, the toy horse returned with an unkempt spool of nylon cordage clenched between his teeth.

"Good job, boy," Woody proclaimed.

Bullseye beamed in satisfaction. Jessie rubbed his mane.

~ O ~

"Way to go, Woodster!" Hamm cheered alongside the others when Woody successfully managed to swing the thick, rusty fish hook tied to the end of the long stretch of rope and catch it onto the criss-cross skywalk's floor.

"The key is," Woody said to Buzz distractedly as he pulled at the string tighter, "that you don't jolt around too much. Otherwise that thing's slipping right off."

Buzz nodded. "Will do."

As Woody tied the other end to a slightly protruding nail in the wall near the edge of the roll-up garage door, adjusting for maximum tension, Jessie came up next to the preparing space ranger. "Good luck, Buzz," she said to him.

"Oh, _ahem_, thank you."

Woody clutched the rope and looked down at Buzz. "'You ready?"

He nodded his head again and pressed the button to close his helmet. Woody moved out of the way for him to grab onto the rope with both hands. Leaning towards the edge, he heaved up his legs and crossed them over the rope for support. The toys' stress levels gradually lowered – but remained nevertheless – when he began his steady pace towards the steel skywalk.

After what felt like several minutes, Buzz neared the end of his journey, quickening his pace in motivation. The rope was jerking more now. But he kept his eyes on the hook just in case, which seemed strong and secure.

"Buzz!"

Woody's cry came too late. Buzz suddenly felt the tightness of the rope give way as he began to fall. The drop was short, however; he swung back and forth, keeping a firm grip on the rope still attached from the opposite end of the break.

Jessie and Mr. Potato Head had had to leap forward to catch Woody, who had attempted to grasp the breaking rope he had only noticed not a second before.

Buzz did not have to climb far, but he did have to climb careful, knowing that the rope he was hanging on to was the only rope they'd had left. He managed to pull himself up onto the skywalk, much to the toys' excitement.

"What happened?" he called back to them as he pulled the now-shorter rope up.

"It must've been rubbing up against the edges," Woody replied, referring to the nail he had tied the rope onto.

"So how are _we_ supposed to get across now?"

Buzz unhooked the rope from the skywalk. "Here, I'll just toss it back-"

"It won't be long enough now. We won't be able to secure it right."

"What, then, genius?"

Woody stared down over the edge at the thick layer of trash that covered the unfamiliar grounds below them. He glanced back up at the skywalk farther down, then back to the litter below. "Follow my lead." With that, he sat down on the edge and began his descent down the metal shaft.

Startled, the rest of the toys watched him as he landed at the bottom. Woody looked up. "Come on," he called to them.

After a moment of hesitation shared with her friends, Jessie was the first to comply. She too slid down the shaft, assisted by Woody in her landing. The others eventually complied as well. "You heard the guy," Hamm uttered heedlessly before taking his turn.

Mr. Potato Head landed in something squidgy that he avoided looking down at. "Ugh. Swell idea," he muttered.

As the last toy landed at the bottom, Woody, who had been ambling around through the debris, looked back up at Buzz, who waited atop the skywalk. "Buzz, throw it down."

Buzz hurriedly detached the hook from the floor and, keeping a firm hold of one end, tossed the other end down to his friends. With the help of what used to be an old bookshelf protruding nearby from the trash, the rope was just long enough for them to reach.

"Okay, Buzz," Woody said. "'You got it?"

Buzz made sure to grasp the rope with both hands and kneeled down, securing his position. "I've got it."

"All right. Bullseye, come over here."

Woody and Jessie worked together to tie the rope around Bullseye's plush girth. They then assisted the Little Green Aliens onto his back in a position where they could hold on tightly either to horse or the rope.

"Now don't be scared, boys," Mrs. Potato Head said to them. "Mommy and daddy are down here, okay?"

The Aliens exchanged three-eyed glances.

"Pull 'em up," Woody called up to the space ranger, who complied. Slowly but surely, Bullseye and the Aliens were hoisted up to the skywalk by Buzz's strong hands. From high up, the Aliens looked down at the other toys and waved to them. Mrs. Potato Head waved back nervously.

They reached the top in no time. Buzz untied the rope from Bullseye's girth and tossed it back down. "Next."

And so, one by one, inside the factory walls, the toys were pulled up to the safety of the steel skywalk suspended above the thick layer of garbage destined for compaction. "Boy," Mr. Potato Head said during his turn as he gradually neared the top, "this is like the chicken's elevator shaft."

"Only smellier," Hamm added from Buzz's side.

It was Rex's turn once all but Jessie and Woody were on the skywalk with Buzz. Rex, anxious, kept as still as he could as Buzz, with assistance from the other toys, pulled him up.

"Hang on, Rex," Woody said.

Rex yelped quietly to himself, resisting the temptation to look down. His tiny hands held on as tightly as they could, the thick knot they had created at the end of it coming in use. Relief overwhelmed him when he reached the top; the moment he was pulled aboard the walkway, he immediately collapsed on his side in great appreciation for solid land. An impossibly loud echo followed afterwards.

The toys atop the skywalk quickly turned their gaze forward down the long, narrow bridge, both puzzled and petrified by metal clatter in the distance. Jessie and Woody looked deeper into the factory.

"What was that?" Jessie asked.

Before anybody could think up a possible answer, all of a sudden, the factory lights switched on, temporarily blinding the toys. The sound of machines starting up and gears shifting startled them all.

But their true horror began the moment Jessie and Woody felt the littered ground they stood in began to tip downwards to what appeared to them from their height as a dark, unending pit. They felt the waste below their feet slowly begin to move towards it.

"Oh, no," Jessie gasped.

"Guys," Buzz shouted out, throwing the rope back down right away. He lay down on his stomach over the edge of the skywalk in order to achieve maximum distance end to end.

But it was too little too late as Woody realized the shelf they were standing on was already beginning to slip. Jessie was desperately struggling to reach for the rope. Intuitively, Woody situated his hands under Jessie's boot and heaved her up as hard as he could.

Jessie caught the rope just in time as the bookshelf was now beginning its fast descent down the steepening ground. "Woody!" she cried, reaching back for him. The last she saw of him was him reaching back before he disappeared within the falling debris out of sight. "No!"

"Jessie! Hold on!" Buzz yelled over the deafening noise.

The cowgirl grabbed on with both hands and looked over her shoulder at the immense amount of trash rapidly coming her way. She pulled herself closed to the rope. In the meantime, Buzz was frenetically pulling at the rope as quick as he could to raise her out of harm's way. Fortunately, she barely managed to elude it.

Things quieted down by the time Buzz had pulled her to the top, almost all of the trash having slipped off the newly-formed gradient. The others watched this in horrified silence. When Buzz hauled Jessie up over the edge, she was frantic. "Buzz, he-"

"We'll find him," he assured her.

"How're we gonna do that?" Slinky asked, just as anxious but also forlornly doubtful.

Despite the distressing uncertainty he shared with the rest of the toys, who stared at him with large, despondent, expectant eyes, Buzz did not drop the confidence from his voice. "By not giving up."

* * *

Chapter 2 should be up fairly soon.


	2. Trash Compactor Escape

The noise levels seemed to increase the farther down Buzz and the group went; following the catwalk down a flight of stairs, the toys became increasingly intimidated by the whirring machinery around them. A sudden loud, ominous bang in the distance – one that immediately faded into an echo – caused Mrs. Potato Head to quickly grab onto her husband's hand in alarm.

Buzz looked beyond the skywalk at the colossal enclosed area from which the incline his friends had climbed from seemed to be directed into. It was a tough call considering how the ramp was now upright once again, and he had been paying too much attention to the wellbeing of his friends to notice exactly how it had angled.

Finally, Buzz turned around. "Listen, it's time we split up."

"But Woody said for us to stay together," Rex reminded him.

"No matter what," Jessie added.

Buzz heaved a disheartened sigh. "I know, but that was before. I'll look for Woody, and you guys find the nearest exit."

"Come again?" Hamm insisted.

"It'll be easier that way for all of us."

"Not a chance," Slinky asserted. "We're all in this together. Right, guys?" The others were in agreement.

"If we all go gallivanting around this place, something else is bound to go wrong." The toys did not dispute this. Buzz turned to the troubled cowgirl. "Jessie, it's up to you to lead them out. I saw an exit sign upstairs somewhere. Just follow it and you'll be safe."

Jessie was ill at ease. She looked at Buzz sceptically.

"I'll come back with Woody. I promise."

Eventually, she did nod her head, although still on edge. "Be careful," was what she said to him.

He looked her in the eyes once more before turning around and running down the skywalk. Jessie watched him along with the others; she was the first to turn the opposite direction. "Let's go."

Buzz came to another staircase, this one leading down closer to the long, wide conveyer belt several feet below. Rather than leaping down the steps, he used the handrail, clasping his hands together so his arms were linked around it, to slide down, and then slipped down the bar to the floor. Buzz scanned the factory, which despite its sudden liveliness, was much darker down here. Squinting to see, he ultimately noticed, far down below, the familiar bookshelf, now in far worse condition than before, lying among the trash. Buzz frowned downheartedly at the sight of its mangled condition.

Before proceeding with his search, he suddenly noticed a strong light emitting through a series of windows further down the footbridge in another direction. Furrowing his brow, Buzz's immediate curiosity drew him towards it.

~ O ~

"Home free, baby," Mr. Potato Head exclaimed when he saw the glowing exit sign above a door. The toys were equally excited to have their long, gruelling journey through the factory come to an end.

Jessie jumped up as high as she could to reach the door handle bar, managing to thrust it down. "Push on it," she instructed the others. They did just that, and the heavy door opened. The refreshing sight of night sky and open planes made them cheer in delight.

However, Jessie was not excited at all; she knew that, in the back of all of their minds, they too were worried sick. She looked over her shoulder, then back at the toys sadly, remaining inside as the steel exit door gradually returned to its closed position.

Bullseye neighed as loud as he could when he noticed what Jessie was doing. The others spun around, but there was no chance, as the door clicked into its locking place after their final glimpse of her apologetic face. There was no handle bar on the outside of the door.

"Jessie," Mrs. Potato Head called through while the others frantically searched for a way to open it. "Honey? Can you hear me?"

"You guys keep going," she said to them from the other side. "We'll catch up with you." Without another word, she scurried back down from where they came from.

The toys exchanged apprehensive looks. Bullseye lowered his head.

~ O ~

Buzz mounted the last step to where the small, windowed room was situated. The doorway was wide open, but he heard no voices or footsteps. Having no prior knowledge of whether or not the city landfill was monitored during the night, he was hesitant about taking a gander. Still, he took the risk and leaned his back against the wall, slowly crawling down towards the doorway.

When he peeked inside, his mind was both put at ease and slightly puzzled at the same time. The control room's vacancy would not have been an unusual site if not for the machinery mysteriously starting up.

Remaining cautious, he walked into the room and looked around. Using a nearby chair, he climbed up to have a view of the actual controls of the factory. He was taken aback by the complexity of them. Lights blinked, unlabelled knobs were lined up – the only one he recognized was an 'On/Off' switch.

From the corner of his eye, Buzz noticed movement. He quickly looked up from the controls near the doorway, but saw nothing. He never let his guard down as he silently watched the doorway, only to be left with the eerie feeling that he wasn't alone.

~ O ~

Jessie looked up from where she was, having to shield her eyes from the light shining directly above. Four corners threateningly close boxed the trash in. Through it all, Jessie climbed down, grateful for the many larger objects that created gaps within the pile.

"Woody," she called in a hoarse whisper. It was surprisingly quiet down there. "Woody, are you here?"

Behind the strong hope that motivated her, doubt and fear for the worse could not help but seep through to the surface. The distance between where she stood and where he had tumbled from was large and potentially fatal for a human being. For a toy, she had no idea.

Her already short breaths suddenly halted when she discerned some of the trash shift. Staring straight at it, she closed in slowly. "Woody?"

It took a moment of vigilant approach, but within seconds after yet another almost unnoticeable movement in the trash, her guard dropped, and she sprinted towards it. She pushed away several layers of debris until she saw that familiar face.

"Woody!" she could not help but cry. Falling to her knees, her arms awkwardly wrapped around him.

It took energy just for Woody to adjust his head so he could look at her. "Jess…?"

"It's okay, Woody. I'm here." With that, she proceeded with her effort to get him to his feet. "Let's get you out of this place. Can you move?"

Woody leaned his head back as though trying to verify. "No," he wheezed. He had been ineffectually pushing against something beneath the trash that covered the lower half of his body.

Jessie was swift to push away the remaining debris, including a broken crate and a partly torn trash bag. In shock, she put her fingers over her gaping mouth and reeled back as she desolately looked upon the crushed remnants of an old microwave, or so she could barely recognize.

Without hesitation, she began to push as hard as she could at it. But despite it being smashed in, its weight was still too much for their thin, cloth arms.

Jessie eventually realized this and flopped down next to Woody, catching her breath. "We… We need Buzz," she said to him. "He'll get you out."

But Woody didn't answer. When she looked over at him, she saw that he had closed his eyes, keeping his hands pressed against the worthless kitchen appliance resting on top of him. Jessie spotted an old plaid rag beneath the rubble. She bunched it together and slipped it behind Woody's head.

~ O ~

Standing so high above the ground was intimidating, but Buzz knew better than to be afraid of heights. Taking a deep breath, he made the jump from the skywalk into the huge mass of garbage below. He landed on top of what used to be the backrest part of an armchair, bracing himself for the impact with his knees.

Jessie perked her head up at the sound. Keeping her hold on Woody's hand, she looked around anxiously for the source of it.

Not far away, Buzz began to wander through the debris in search for his long-time friend. "Woody," he called.

"Buzz," Jessie exclaimed, zealous.

He was stunned to hear her voice instead. "Jessie?"

"Buzz, over here."

With no delay, Buzz was hurrying down the mass of debris until he spotted the cowgirl sitting there as though having been expecting him. His bewilderment was overshadowed by the panic he felt when he saw Woody lying face-up next to her.

Jessie moved over to where the remnants of an old microwave oven were laying on top of the cowboy's midsection and legs. "Buzz, give me a hand with this."

The space ranger didn't waste any time; he rushed around to Woody's other side and slipped his hands underneath the appliance. "On three," he said to her, bending his knees. She nodded. "One…two…_three_." Both he and Jessie attempted to lift it up with all their might, Woody anxiously assisting the way he could by pushing up against it.

Eventually, their strength gave in to its weight. Jessie collapsed against it; Buzz loosened up his arms without changing his position, instead looking at the heavy piece of debris for a way to lighten the load. But the metal outer case, despite it being crushed in, did not allow for many options.

"All right. Again," Buzz finally said after Jessie had her moment of rest.

Jessie gasped at the sudden loud clanking noise sounding not far away. But as time passed without anything else to follow it, they were able to relax. Hardly.

"Come on," Buzz said once more.

Woody was shaking his head. "Guys, go." Much to Buzz and Jessie's despair, Woody dropped his hands from the appliance in defeat. "You can still make it to Andy's."

Jessie would not accept it. "We're not leaving without you," she guaranteed him, kneeling by his side in the rubble. Her hand stroked the back of his neck.

This truth dismayed Woody, as Buzz solemnly noticed. "You gotta go…" he said under his breath.

As much as Buzz always knew that it was almost always the wisest decision to go by his friend's directions, this time he would not abide, he promised himself. "We're not going anywhere." With that, he sat down on the other side of the fallen cowboy doll, staring hopelessly at the simple, useless old kitchen appliance that was in the way of them reaching their owner.

~ O ~

Buzz stood atop an obtruding tire in the rubble, scanning the spacious, enclosed area, using the time to give his arms more rest from yet another attempt at the cowboy's freedom. He glanced back at their latest effort; the long, steel rod stood straight out from beneath the broken microwave oven. The more tries they gave it, the more gaps of time there were between new, unsuccessful ideas.

Jessie was lying down, resting her hatless head by Woody's neck, worrying not about the filth that would now stain her yarn tresses. She had her arm rested upon him and was mumbling something quietly – to herself or to Woody, Buzz couldn't tell. Woody, all the while, had shut his eyes for a moment, conserving his own energy for the possible next try.

But they all knew it at the back of their minds: hope was slowly fading. With their existing luck, the three knew that they would not be home before Andy's departure. The more failed ways of lifting that piece of debris, the less chance there was.

Buzz sat himself down on the edge of the tire and stared towards the two _Woody's Roundup_ dolls. Jessie turned her distracted gaze from Woody's badge to Buzz. For a minute, all they did was look at each other in deep grief, both coming to terms with the same reality.

Much to their surprise, there was a sudden shudder of their surroundings with a deafening pound of metal against metal. Buzz sprung to his feet, and Jessie sat up at once. The three of them looked around uneasily.

Before there was even a chance to question, there was another quiver, this one much subtler, but much more alarming as the toys noticed the walls on either side of them slowly beginning to close in.

"Buzz!" Jessie shouted over the loudness of the gears working the steel dividers forward.

Buzz was already sprinting back to them, stumbling over the shifting trash below his feet. He repositioned his hands beneath the heavy appliance. "Quick!"

She joined him as they tried one last time to lift the appliance off of Woody, the cowboy also giving it his all. But the moving trash, if anything, made it even more difficult, offering up an unsteady support for their feet.

"Get out of here," Woody insisted fretfully.

"Not without you!" Jessie returned to Woody's side, hoping to support him through it. But Buzz knew that there was no light on the other side for any of them if they didn't act fast.

As he looked around frantically, he noticed an old wheel barrel flipped upside down being pushed in their direction. An idea immediately clicked into Buzz's head; he pulled the steel rod out from underneath the microwave oven and adjusted it so it was now supported against the corner near Woody's torso. "Get ready."

Woody and Jessie were able to quickly comprehend his plan and prepare to move fast.

Just milliseconds before the wheel barrel passed its mark, Buzz forced the other end of the rod down, ramming it against the front edge of the wheel barrel. Wedged between the microwave and the barrel, the rod began to push up against the microwave, lifting it on one side. "_Now_! Move!"

As Buzz kept his grip on the rod, Jessie quickly pulled Woody from under the raised appliance. Woody kicked his way out with one leg, the other leg following limp.

Only seconds later after Woody was free, the rod snapped in half, and the microwave fell back down with a thud. Buzz ignored it and hurried to where Jessie was trying to get Woody to his feet. "Get on top," he exclaimed. He pulled Woody's arm over his shoulders, clutching the cowboy's wrist with one hand and wrapping his opposite arm around his torso. "I've got him."

Jessie did as she was told, leading the way and clearing a path for Woody and Buzz. But it became increasingly difficult as the walls closed in on them and the trash shifted to create less space for them to pass through.

The struggle was nearly over when they neared the top, now more of a simple climb what with the trash pile being less spread out. Still, the space was limited. Jessie hurriedly managed to climb out in time. But as she looked back from her safe haven, she saw that Buzz and Woody were still far behind. "Hurry!" she cried.

Buzz noticed long ago that Woody could not use one of his legs, and the other one was still rather weak from the heavy pressure against it. He found that Woody was partly limping, partly being dragged up the mountain of debris.

Jessie had her arm extended. "Come on!"

As they reached the top, Buzz pushed up against Woody so that he could reach for her hand. Once he was pulled out, Buzz immediately followed, in the nick of time too. They listened, catching their breath in the meantime, to the sound of crushing metal, wood and other materials in the trash compactor.

Woody felt obliged to speak first. "Thanks, guys," he said between breaths.

Jessie had moved on from relief to inspecting the damage, specifically on Woody. Straight away, she noticed the small but unmistakable break in the threads of his left leg, as well as a slight bit of damage done to his left side just above his belt. She was frowning.

They jolted when the compactor wall came to a halt and began to shift back into its original position. Buzz stood, apprehensive. "We'd better move."

* * *

_Star Wars_-inspired scene, I know. Chapter 3 is to come. Thanks for reading this far.


	3. To Infinity and Beyond

"This way," Buzz said over his shoulder as he proceeded forward up a steady slope.

From behind him, it was Jessie's turn to assist Woody. His limp left leg dragged uselessly behind him, oftentimes causing him to inadvertently get his boot caught in something protruding from the uneven ground. Using Jessie's body as a crutch, the two managed to keep up with the fast-paced space ranger through the entrails of the unusually active complex.

Buzz hopped over a thick duct bolted to the ground. "Stay here," he instructed them. He scampered farther up to a power box and climbed it. Standing on the top, he stared beyond the empty conveyor belt up farther in the distance. That's when he saw the bright orange light illuminating from the ground. But beyond that, to his exhilaration, he saw what they had all been hoping for.

He hurriedly climbed back down and returned for Woody and Jessie. "We're almost there. I saw our exit."

Jessie was beaming excitedly, as was Woody, at the good news.

"Hurry. We can still make it in time."

With effort on all of their parts, Woody was aided over the protruding duct. As Jessie readjusted herself readily as Woody's much-needed support, Buzz looked past the conveyer belt. "We should veer off course from that thing," he recommended, turning to Woody. Woody nodded in agreement.

With Buzz leading the way once again, the three of them continued up the slope. As they drew nearer to their way out, Jessie was beginning to notice the increasingly bright orange light. "Buzz," Jessie said, "is that…"

"We'll be fine, Jessie. We'll try to go around."

Despite her uncertainty, she trusted Buzz with this. Woody, who was already aware of the plan, suddenly also began to doubt when he saw how far the fiery light extended across their path in the distance.

As though the activation of the machinery was not loud enough, the growing sound of the incinerator began to overwhelm their ears. A look of anxiety cast over Buzz's face when he too noticed how they had not been able to swerve away from the sweltering illumination from below without swerving away from their exit. He ran forward to the edge of their safe path.

The moment he reached it, Woody and Jessie close behind, he immediately backed away when he looked down at the angry flames blazing several feet below. A mechanical sheath was left amateurishly partly obtruding at least a quarter of the way down to where the stimulators of the intense blaze were. He scanned from one end to the other only to sorrowfully realize there was no way around it.

"Buzz," Jessie shouted in an attempt to make herself heard over the intense loudness of their surroundings. "What do we do?"

Buzz looked to Jessie; she stared at him with fret and anticipation. He turned to Woody, who appeared weary from their long journey and his exhausted, damaged legs.

He looked around desperately for any path across; but the incinerator was boxed in on both sides with flat, even walls extending all the way up to the high ceiling. They had come so far, the last thing he wanted was for it to all be a waste of effort.

But before hopelessness settled in, a crazy idea clicked into his head. Buzz glanced down at the large, red, circular button situated on the left side of his space suit. He then looked up at the footbridge on the other side.

Woody, who also had his eyes fixed on the pondering space ranger, eventually came to understand exactly what Buzz was considering. The decision was made the moment their eyes knowingly met.

Jessie waited uneasily for an explanation of any sort.

~ O ~

"'You sure about this?"

Buzz tugged on the old electrical cable to ensure its security on the overhanging steel pipeline. He turned to Jessie, who was tentatively gazing down over the edge of the power generator they were standing on.

"The only time I've ever seen you fly was when Andy was pretending."

As Buzz adjusted his position, Woody was looking up at them from below. Regardless of what he tried to convince himself, both he and Buzz knew that it was not a sure-fire plan. The way the space ranger was manufactured only allowed him to _know how_ to angle and manoeuvre, not to actually do so.

"If we're able to attain the proper projectile motion," Buzz finally said to her, "I should be able to angle us correctly in order to catch my wings in the air." He smiled encouragingly towards the concerned-looking cowgirl. "But if we obtain a decent velocity, it may not even be necessary."

Jessie nodded. "Right," she muttered.

Buzz extended his arm out, holding on to the cord with his other hand. "Trust me."

Consideration delayed her for another moment, but eventually, Jessie did muster up the courage to put her faith in him. Timidly, she wrapped her arms around his bulky space suit. Buzz took a step closer to the edge of the power generator; he held onto Jessie with one arm while pulling once more at the cord with the other.

"'Ready?" he asked her.

Jessie shook her head no. She was staring down at Woody.

Woody gave her a reassuring, confident look to ease her tension. "Good luck," he called to Buzz.

Buzz gave him a thankful nod before stepping off the power generator. Jessie was wide-eyed the entire time they were swinging down. The instant before he released the cable, Buzz secured his grip on her.

Jessie's eyes immediately squeezed shut when they began to soar over the conflagration. She hid her face in Buzz's suited chest. Buzz, all the while, managed to adjust his position in order to get his wings caught in the air, just enough to carry them farther across the depths of the unfathomable incinerator. Through his helmet, he watched the skywalk with immense intent.

It was a close call, but Buzz and Jessie successfully landed on the skywalk. The perplexed toys soon heard Woody's hearty, relieved laughter from the other side. Jessie gradually overcame her speechless bewilderment and joined Woody and Buzz in a state of exhilaration. On her hands and knees, she just started laughing.

"Woody, did ya see us?" she shouted excitedly.

Woody was giving her a thumbs-up, beaming with such relief, he could barely control it.

Buzz returned to his feet; he removed the second electrical cord off of his shoulder. "Hang tight, cowboy. I'll be right over."

~ O ~

Not far outside the trash incineration complex, the other toys sat desolately around, hiding behind a series of trash bins. Slowly but surely, night was turning into day as they saw the glow of late summer daylight appearing far off in the East.

"How long has it been?" Slinky inquired. The spring that formed his tail was slumped between his legs.

Hamm looked over at the working watch laying among the trash. "Eh… Where were we at last time again?"

"Oh, forget it," Mr. Potato Head finally said. "They're not gonna make it out." The grief in his voice reflected in the other toys' expressions. Bullseye lowered his head and whimpered.

After a moment of silence, Rex spoke: "So…what do we do now?"

They all looked at each other uncertainly.

~ O ~

Buzz landed much more smoothly the second time around. The sound of his plastic boots thudding against the metal edge of the incinerator created a loud echo that was rapidly drained out by the other sounds of the operational building.

Pushing the button to remove his helmet covering, he hurried to Woody's side just as he was attempting to balance himself without the aid of the duct he was leaning against.

"Here," Buzz said. "Lean against me." He pulled Woody's arm over his shoulders.

Just as the two were getting adjusted, Jessie, who watched attentively from the safe side of the incinerator, suddenly screamed, "Buzz! Look out behind you!"

Buzz turned just in time to react. Still holding onto Woody, he dodged the thick, swinging plank directed at his head. He turned them around so they could face their aggressor. The two were equally startled to see his furry face.

"Lotso-" Buzz tried to say, but Lotso swung again. This time, Buzz and Woody became separated in order for them to successfully avoid potential damage from the robust piece of lumber. Both landed on their backs on either side of the angry toy bear.

A glimmer of rage was in Lotso's narrowed eyes. "Thirty years, I ran that daycare centre. Thirty years, I was in complete control of my own fate. And, in some way that I still don't understand, you managed to take it all away in a single night."

"Lotso," Buzz urged, anxious to distract him from Woody on whom Lotso was focusing. "Lotso, we can help you out of here." He extended his hand, motioning the bear to lower the plank. "Just, please-"

Lotso laughed. "I'm beyond help now, Lightyear. But hey, I've got you all to thank for that."

Without a hint of remorse, Lotso swung the plank at Buzz as hard and fast as he could. Buzz's graceless position did not allow him to move quick enough to avoid it. He could've sworn he heard something crack as he was whacked across the chest. He felt for any damage.

"I gave you the chance to make something of yourself; to control your _own_ destiny."

Buzz was still clutching his chest. He narrowed his eyes in return. "You were asking me to turn my back on my friends."

Lotso drew back the plank and propelled it at Buzz once more, this time striking him in the side of the head. Buzz reeled back in ache.

Woody, all the while, was pushing himself up to his feet as best and silently as he could.

"You could have had it all. You don't need no kid; 'never did. What exactly is next for you now, Space Ranger? Hm? 'You just gonna go on back so you can keep collectin' dust until he works up the nerve to finally throw you away?"

Buzz watched the rising lath.

"Some life that'd've been."

Before Lotso even had the chance to swing, Woody was clinging to his arm with both of his. Lotso stumbled backwards, causing Woody, with his non-functioning leg, to stumble slightly as well. Woody wrestled to get Lotso to drop the piece of lumber with eventual victory.

Lotso fought to get out of Woody's grasp, a task which would've been simple if it were not for the cowboy's strong determination. "Let _go_ of me!" Lotso ordered angrily.

But he took one step back too far as he found himself losing his footing on the very edge of the incinerator's aperture. Both he and Woody began their long fall down towards the flaming inferno.

"_No_!" Jessie screamed.

"_Woody_!" Buzz hollered after them. He rushed to the edge.

Woody and Lotso were less than fortunate when they brutally struck the metal sheath. Lotso's plush body simply absorbed most of the shock of the impact; Woody, on the other hand, remained still afterwards, arms and legs sprawled awkwardly around him.

Jessie was panicking. "Woody!" she yelled, hoping for a response.

Instead, she watched nervously as Lotso slowly pushed himself up, shaking his head to clear it. He turned to Woody, whom he noticed was non-responsive. Lotso took this opportunity of weakness to avenge what he had lost. He shakily got to his feet.

Standing over the Sheriff, Lotso pushed him with his foot towards the brink.

"Lotso, no!" Jessie cried out, futile.

Woody became conscious of what Lotso was doing only when he was pushed off the edge. He exclaimed in a fraught effort to keep himself up.

Lotso took hold of Woody's arm and, using the sharp rim of the connective part of the sheath, tore through the threads of his forearm. Woody cried out, intensely feeling each of the individual threads in his cloth arm being broken. Lotso let go of it, allowing it to drop down by Woody's side and dangle uselessly.

"Lotso! _P__lease_!"

Jessie's desperate cry fell on careless ears; Lotso pressed his foot against Woody's other working arm. A single trace of compunction in Lotso's expression as he looked at Woody's pleading face took a moment to vanish. With one swift motion, he shoved Woody's arm off of the ledge.

"_No_!" Jessie screamed.

Lotso watched with nefarious satisfaction. "So long, Sheriff," he said.

The stuffed bear was startled by the sudden rush of air by his ear. He jumped at the abrupt and blurry sight of Buzz Lightyear whizzing past him at full speed.

Buzz extended himself as far as he possibly could in order to achieve maximum acceleration; the flames below grew bigger and burned brighter very quickly. Woody reached up for Buzz's reaching fingertips. Both felt the scorching heat rising frighteningly fast. In due time, the two came within reach of one other to grab each other's wrists.

"Buzz!" Woody shouted as he was pulled in closer.

"Hang on!" Buzz pushed the big red button on his space suit, allowing his wings to pop out immediately. Woody instinctively held on to his hat.

Buzz and Woody could feel the sweltering flames flicker against them as Buzz angled himself enough to swerve upwards. In the substantial amount of velocity they had obtained over such immeasurable freefalling, they could only hope that it would be enough power to make it to the skywalk.

In intense relief, Jessie watched the two just barely make it to the skywalk, both gripping on to the edge almost gracefully. She was swift to aid Woody up, wrapping her arms tightly around him from behind and laying him down in her lap as he breathed heavily for the air he had lost. Buzz climbed up after him, remaining on his knees as he too took a moment to catch his own breath.

Lotso was enraged; but as the three watched him throw his fit, they quietly came to see him in a different sort of light. The purple bear never stopped glowering as he slumped down against the wall.

* * *

I'm grateful that all of that action is out of the way. Look for Chapter 4 soon.


	4. The Journey Homeward

The cool gust of air was welcome regardless of the foul scent it carried. Dim sunlight poured over the horizon, brightening the unpleasant landfill, reflecting off of Buzz's grimy space suit. Buzz was cautious with the raggedy arm he was holding over his shoulders; he paid close consideration both to where they were stepping as well as the amount of strain he was adding to the already frayed arm in order to keep its owner hoisted.

Jessie left it to Buzz to keep track of their steps. Causing her to occasionally stumble over scattered debris, her undivided attention was instead given to Woody during his relentless struggle to remain upright with his one effective leg. Similar to Buzz, she supported him as best she could with her arm wrapped around his waist and allowing him to lean on her for balance when need be.

"Do you see them?" Buzz inquired as he scanned the area.

She did the same. Ultimately, she came to the same, disappointing conclusion. "No."

The junkyard was quiet, the sound of working machinery from inside the trash compactor complex having gradually faded to nothing after a safe distance had been created between them and emergency exit door. Even as they neared a small parking lot, still there was no resonance to greet their hopeful ears.

To their surprise, they heard that familiar whinny break the stillness. From atop a random tire off in a clearer part of the pasture, Bullseye joyfully kicked his front legs in the air at the sight of them, the vivid colours of early daylight behind him adding to his stallion magnificence.

Within seconds, Buzz, Woody and Jessie were smiling upon the sight of the rest of the toys hurrying towards them.

"There you guys are," Mr. Potato Head said, partly impatient, but mostly relieved.

"Hey, what took ya?" Hamm demanded.

Buzz carefully allowed the concerned toy horse to take over the task of keeping Woody standing. "Don't ask," he muttered.

Woody held on to Bullseye's mane as he, with Jessie still sustaining him, was steadily and gently lowered to the ground for a break on his lone working leg.

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter now," Buzz assured without regret. He watched Slinky sadly nudge Woody's limp right arm with his plastic snout. "Is everybody here?"

"We're all here," Mrs. Potato Head confirmed, extending her arms out to pull the Aliens in closer.

Buzz looked towards the long, empty road past the vacant parking lot. He then looked at the sun, now poking farther out from behind the mountains. "Let's go," he said. "Andy'll be leaving pretty soon."

Mr. Potato Head was stunned. "Are you kidding?" he insisted. "'You really think we've got a chance of making it? He'll be at his first frat party by the time we get home."

But Buzz refused to heed Potato Head's discouraging words, regardless of any probable truth in them. Instead, he proceeded to aid Woody into a convenient position. "Over here, Bullseye." Bullseye complied and bent lower and inched closer to where Woody was on the ground.

"Guys," Woody murmured with a clear hint of hopelessness in his tone of voice as he was lifted onto Bullseye, "it'll be faster…without…-"

"We don't wanna hear that kind 'a talk," Jessie asserted, almost crossly. "Andy's waiting for ya, remember?"

Just as Woody was adjusted in the saddle, he incoherently exhaled, "Andy…"

"Carefully, Bullseye." The toy horse obeyed Jessie's directive and, ever so slowly, hoisted himself back onto his hoofs, keeping the drowsy cowboy balanced in his saddle. Still, both Jessie and Buzz stood up on either side of him, latching onto Woody just in case.

Rex broke the cheerless silence that befell afterwards. "Are we going?" he asked sincerely.

Buzz nodded. "Come on, troops."

Jessie took on the sole task of staying by Woody and Bullseye's side as the horse cautiously proceeded forward, following the intent group of toys as they left the trash compaction complex behind them. At the bottom of their hearts, a feeling of great doubt equally filled them all.

~ O ~

It was well-known that the world was a very dangerous place for a toy; only the lucky ones with protective owners could truly survive it. So for twelve uncertain, astray toys to be wandering around the city was a daunting thing.

Andy's toys now had to avoid following the road, remaining instead hidden within the trees by the sidewalk, bordered by the long log fencing. Waiting for nightfall to veil them was not an option, thus the toys' vigilance was raised rather high, preparing to freeze at the first hint of sighting. But vehicles moved so quickly down the road, they knew there was a slim chance of discovery anyway.

"Easy, boy." Jessie stroked Bullseye's mane when the horse mildly staggered over a fallen branch.

Mr. Potato Head assisted his fatigued wife over a thick, projecting tree root after Slinky hopped on over it using the potentially last drops of energy he had to spare, his worn out legs shuddering almost as much as his spring.

Buzz turned to his friends. "We're almost home, guys. Just hang in there."

"That's what you said an hour ago," Hamm acknowledged.

"Just a few more blocks," Buzz insisted. "You can do it."

Mr. Potato Head sighed. "What's the point, anyway?" he said rhetorically.

Buzz wanted to say something – anything to hearten them. But nothing came to him, knowing deep down that the hope that was left was quickly fading if not gone already. As several of the toys went on past him, he looked to Woody, still slumped on Bullseye's back, for encouragement. In a way other than the way he had intended, that's exactly what he got from Woody's trusting eyes returning the gaze.

~ O ~

Evening had fallen over the suburban community, the sun beginning its final descent in the West side of the outlying mountains. The days were growing shorter, so they'd noticed, as the summer was coming to a sad end. Even more so for the toys furtively making their way down Elm Street.

House 234 eventually appeared from behind the large deciduous tree. All of the strength the toys lacked only moments ago quickly returned at the sight of light emitting through the house's windows, particularly one of a certain, familiar bedroom.

"'Ya think…?" Jessie began.

"It's possible," Hamm admitted.

Even Mr. Potato Head was suddenly hopeful again, squeezing his wife's hand with equivalent excitement to the others.

Buzz led them over to the shrubbery that bordered the house. "I'll go check," he said. "Stay here." With that, he rushed across the lawn to where the drainage pipe extended from the roof near Andy's bedroom window. His determination overpowered his exhaustion during his tough ascent up the pipe.

Buzz climbed more carefully and soundlessly up the asphalt shingles to the pinnacle of the garage roof, his eyes fixed on the shut window. Using the brick wall as both support and a cover, he slowly drew near until he could reach the window sill. Only when he listened for quiet did he deem it safe to take a look.

And indeed, as he already foresaw deep down, his spirits were dampened by what he witnessed inside Andy's room. Or what used to be. The bed on which Andy once lay, tucked in beneath his cozy Buzz Lightyear covers, now mom sat on in grief. She stroked the mattress tenderly as she looked around the empty room in which her son grew up in, eyes glossy from latent tears ready to fall.

"Oh, Andy," she whispered into the empty space. She wiped her sleeve across her eyes.

Buzz shared her sorrows in more ways as he stared into the room he'd spent his life in, to the toy box he'd shared with his good and loyal friends. His grasp of reality came hard and unmerciful. Leaving the distraught mother to her much-deserved time for reminiscence, Buzz silently paced himself down the roof and down the drainpipe.

The second he landed on the ground, he immediately felt those many sets of expectant eyes on him. For a moment, he didn't turn around.

"Well?"

Still, Buzz stayed quiet, leaning his head against the drainpipe he kept his grip on.

The toys needed no more. Everything they had in them – all the fortitude and optimism that kept them going – vanished in an instant. Slinky sat down in the grass and hung his heavy head.

"What'd I tell ya?" Mr. Potato Head proclaimed, but retracted to comfort his dismayed wife.

As Jessie rubbed Bullseye's lowered neck, she looked up at Woody with sad eyes, noticing he too said nothing. In fact, he hadn't even reacted. She didn't know if that was either because he had already known the truth, or if he was too groggy to perceive they were even home.

"So, what do we do now?" Rex said, once again breaking the silence they'd all fallen into.

"We can always go up to the attic," Slinky suggested.

"Yeah," Hamm confirmed, "just like Andy wanted us in the first place."

Buzz sighed as he looked up the drainpipe. "There's no point of it now; Andy thinks we're long gone anyway. Who knows how long it'll be before we're discovered up there."

"But what about Woody?" Slinky suddenly inquired.

They all went quiet, remembering one of the 'College' boxes in which one of them had been placed into. While they came to the distressing realization of their left-behind friend, Woody was shaking his head reassuringly. "Never mind, Slink. It's like Buzz said before: We gotta stay together; that's what's important now."

As much as Buzz agreed, he couldn't help but suddenly regret those words.

"Guys," Jessie quickly pronounced, directing their attention to the car quickly approaching from the end of Elm Street, headlights on high.

"Take cover."

They all followed Buzz's instructions and ducked into the bushes as the vehicle cruised on by. They waited until they could no longer hear its engine before stepping out into the open again.

"Let's go," Buzz directed, proceeding towards the edge of the front lawn to where it met the road.

Mr. Potato Head watched him, mystified. "Go where?" he asked.

Stopping in his tracks for a moment to deliberate, he finally exhaled and turned to his friends with a dejected expression on his synthetic face. "I don't know."

* * *

'Depressed yet? Stay tuned for Chapter 5. I promise that I'm all for happy endings.


	5. Waiting for an Absolution

"Take a breather, everyone," Buzz instructed, guiding the exhausted toys over to the base of an old tree with plenty of thick roots to lean on.

They certainly did not need to be asked twice. Almost immediately, the toys fell off their feet to give them the much-deserved rest. Bullseye went to the closest protruding tree root and lowered himself enough for Jessie to assist Woody off of his saddle before he too collapsed off his feet. Woody, leaning against the root, smiled faintly and rubbed Bullseye's mane. "Thanks, boy. You're doing great." Bullseye whinnied before laying his head against the root across from his rider.

Buzz looked up at the darkening skies, then over the rooftops at the sun disappearing behind them, leaving behind a few more traces of golden beams. Just a few minutes, he decided. Then they would continue on. Perhaps with any luck, before the night is over, they would figure something out.

A few minutes suddenly seemed out of the question when he saw his friends had all closed their eyes in a light sleep. He tightened the corner of his mouth in deliberation, and then heaved a sigh. A bit more than a few minutes wouldn't hurt.

As he watched the Potato Heads hands come together as they lay in the soil, it wasn't long before he suddenly noticed the one toy not present among the resting ones. A minor panic came over him while he began circling the thick tree trunk in search. But it dwindled when, as he came around the bend, he saw those familiar cow-print chaps reflecting the dim evening light off of the milky white parts of its polyester textile.

"Jessie," he whispered, hoping to provide the other toys with decent silence for their needed rest.

Jessie brought her legs in closer to her chest. She turned her troubled gaze from her knees to the treetops.

"Are you all right?" He spoke formally, but anybody could sense his genuine concern.

The distraught cowgirl squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together. "We could've made it." The frustration in her hushed tone was more than just conspicuous.

Buzz sat along the same tree root she was sitting on top of. "No, Jessie. Potato Head was right from the start; it was a fool's hope."

"He kept telling us, Buzz," she decreed. "Over and over."

Finally, Buzz understood the true source of her aggravation. After all, he shared it with her. "It was a mistake on all of our parts," he said, inching closer to her.

"And look what it cost us." Jessie fought to maintain self control, desperately trying to keep her breathing steady and calm. Again, she shut her eyes in the effort. "Andy was gonna take him to college."

Buzz nodded sorrowfully. To that, he offered no response as the 'what-if' scenario played in his mind.

Jessie hid her face behind her knees. "He could've been there with him right now."

Eventually, Buzz did muster up the confidence, despite the state of deep despair he was in alongside her, to rub the side of her knee tenderly. "I can't think of a place Woody would rather be than with us."

Jessie shook her head in denial of such an absurd possible fact.

"He cares a lot about us. How happy could he be at college wondering about where we are and how we're doing?" Buzz could see Jessie's head move in a way as though she was taking Buzz's words to consideration. Again, Buzz rubbed the side of her leg. "You know he wouldn't want to leave us."

She stroked her fingers across her yarn hair. "I know." With sad eyes, she looked up into Buzz's eyes. "What are we gonna do? Woody won't last much longer."

"We'll find him help. We'll figure it out together," he assured her.

Jessie nodded. Without hesitation – just deep sought for comfort, she shifted over to Buzz and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against the bulk of his space suit. Buzz, at first somewhat staggered by the atypical gesture, gave her the solace she was seeking by returning the embrace. He didn't realize his tough, plastic arms could provide such a thing.

~ O ~

A single streetlight shone light upon the suburban area in little need of it, in no recognition of the fact that the shortened end-of-summer days were not quite that short just yet. Inferior streams of daylight on the verge of being overcome by dusk still shone through the starlit skies. But the streetlight burned on, preparing the residential area for the shadows to come.

Directly beneath the streetlight, on the opposite side of the boulevard, was a bush; a black chokeberry. Its branches stuck out towards the neighbouring sidewalk. On the other side, where the bush met a fence, the dark leaves sheltered twelve despondent toys from sight. They all sat around one another, unsure of what to say, uncertain of what to do.

"Oh, man," Hamm muttered. "This is just sad."

Slinky lifted his head only enough to watch the little green Aliens interestedly nudge a passing insect as it scurried across the ground.

"Is this the plan now?" Mr. Potato Head insisted. "We just stay here until we become dirt?"

Buzz, all the while, had been stroking his chin in thought. "Save your energy, Potato Head. We'll figure something out."

"We could go back to Sunnyside," Mrs. Potato Head recommended.

Woody shook his head uncertainly from where he leaned against Bullseye's body. "I don't know, you guys. It may be better now without Lotso running things, but I stand by what I said before; it's no place for us."

"But you said it's a place for toys with no owners," Rex noted dolefully.

"Sounds like we qualify to me," Hamm pointed out.

As much as they all knew the truth, hearing them aloud just dismayed them even more. Woody kept silent and sadly looked to the ground. Buzz leaned towards him from where he sat, placing a hand on the shoulder of the torn arm to provide any possible comfort.

"Well, we can't stay out _here_ forever." Hamm shook off a fallen leaf that had gotten stuck to the bottom of his hoof. "Sooner or later, somebody's gonna come by. Like another trash collector, or a-"

"A kid!" Jessie suddenly proclaimed.

The piggy bank huffed, "Well, sure, if you wanna be overly optimistic."

"No, guys, really; there's folks comin'."

The statement itself was nothing to be wound up about, but the thrill in her voice as she stared out from beneath the black chokeberry made them curious. They scampered to the edge near the sidewalk, pushing away at several branches, seeing from a distance what Jessie had enthusiastically pointed out.

Across the peaceful suburban street, they perceived a young woman, no older than their previous owner. She strode along the sidewalk with her long, dirty-blonde hair tied securely in a ponytail swaying at the same frequency as the oversized handbag hanging from her shoulder.

With her free hand, she clasped on to the hand of a boy, three – four years at the oldest. His short legs moved quicker to keep up with his minder. He held on to one of the straps of the red knapsack he had on his back.

"Should we hide?" Rex inquired.

Woody, who had managed to scoot closer to the edge of the bush, would have immediately responded to his friends' inquisitiveness and inward debate if he had not been distracted with something else. Something that would help answer Rex's question.

With a great deal of effort, the cowboy began to pull himself up. "Give me a hand. Quick."

Of course, they did not hesitate to comply. Jessie was haste to come to Woody's aid, assisting him to his feet – or, rather, one right foot.

"Are we hiding?"

"You guys stay here," Woody instructed, referring to their place beneath the bush just next to the sidewalk. He turned to Jessie. "Help me to the curb."

They were stunned. "To the trash can? What's the point in that?"

"Trust me on this. Slink," he said to his loyal companion, "make yourself visible. Leave an end out."

Slinky overcame his puzzlement with his faith in the cowboy. "Sure thing, Woody."

~O~

"Okay, give me one that starts with 'G'."

The little blonde-haired boy pressed his index finger against his chin. "Mm… _Giraffe_."

"Ah, good one," she approved. "'Tall like dad, right?"

"Yeah," he snickered.

Keeping a secure hold of his hand, she steered him around the corner as he distractedly watched the spots on the sidewalk on which he intended to step, whether it be to avoid cracks or to crush fallen leaves with his sneakers.

She stared distantly ahead. "What about one with…'L'?"

"Look." He suddenly drew their attention to what was laying face-up on the sidewalk merely feet away. As she scrutinized it from where it lay, slowing her already steady pace, the boy showed no attempt to control his fascination and rushed towards it. Falling gently to his knees, he picked it up. "Cowboy," he said happily, holding it up for a closer view.

The young woman came around, not for a moment taking her bewildered gaze off of the cowboy doll limp in the little boy's hands, and kneeled down across from where he was curiously examining the toy. "It's Woody," she muttered, more to herself rather than to the enquiring boy. "Let me see him, Michael."

He obeyed and carefully handed her the filth-covered, raggedy doll. She held it up so she could observe the tainted, plastic face. Her own face showed surprise and reflective melancholy. "Gosh, it's been years. I remember my friend, Andy, having one of these dolls. 'Remember Andy?"

Michael nodded his head, directing his gaze back and forth between her and Woody.

"Poor thing," she mumbled mournfully, examining the plentiful damage done on the toy. She then cocked her head in curiosity. "In fact …" She lifted the right leg, bending it forward at the knee in a manner impossible for a human to accomplish, in order to see the bottom of the cowboy boot. Through the grime coating the sole, seeing those four letters caused her expression to change from wonder to astonishment. "Oh, my gosh."

As she was coming to the realization, Michael's remiss eyes caught sight of something else lying nearby. "Ashley, look. A puppy."

At first hesitating to take her attention away from the familiar toy in her hands, she watched him hustle over to a nearby bush where he had noticed the front half of a plastic dog laying out on the grassy plane just before the concrete. He lifted it forward, only then recognizing the wide spring preventing him from pulling any farther.

"Oh, Slinky dog," Ashley droned in nostalgia, making her way over with a tender grasp on Woody.

Michael ducked down to see where the other half of the springy dog was hidden. A look of amazement cast over his face as he looked beneath the bush. "Wow," he exclaimed ardently.

Both of them were amazed to find several toys scattered over the rich soil underneath the leaves and branches of the bush. Ashley was more so astounded at the sight of them all. "How did they all get out here?" she said aloud.

"Can we take them home?"

Ashley was already beginning to pull them out from beneath the bush one or two at a time. "Yeah, we should. A lot of them belonged to Andy; I don't think they got here on purpose.

"Give me your bag, okay?" Michael did as he was told and slip the backpack off of his shoulders. Ashley unzipped it open. "Put as many of them in here as you can."

He nodded, simply excited about the prospect of taking the toys home, regardless of their lack of sanitation. Cautious in the way he handled them, one by one, he loaded them into the practically empty knapsack.

Ashley, still keeping hold of Woody, lifted him to her viewing. With her thumb, she stroked away a grain of soil.

"_Buzz_," Michael abruptly proclaimed, having suddenly noticed the recognizable space ranger among the rest of the toys. He halted in his simple task to admire the action figure.

"Yeah, it's Buzz," she said, grinning at his enthusiasm. "Would you believed that I asked for one of those when I was little? Mom thought I was crazy."

Michael rotated the toy in his protective grasp for a full view. "He's cool."

"I know, right?" But Ashley allowed little time for admiration, reminding Michael of their awaiting parents. She proceeded in filling her handbag with as many of the remaining toys as possible, while Michael adjusted the straps of his backpack back over his shoulders. He patted the bag full of grimy toys as though to console them.

Besides Woody, only Buzz, Rex and Hamm remained unpacked due to their more bulky stature. After short consideration, Ashley looked to Michael. "You're going to do me a favour," she established. Vigilantly, she offered Woody to him. "Hold on to Woody. But be very careful with him, all right?"

"'Kay." After handing Buzz to her, Michael accepted Woody with two steady hands, slipping one hand underneath the cowboy's raggedy legs. He repositioned him so the toy was lying along his arm at his chest like one would hold an infant.

Ashley chuckled. "Perfect," she declared. "Let's go home."After adjusting her handbag over her shoulder, she collected the three remaining toys into her arms and stood.

Michael looked down upon the broken cowboy doll with concerned but joy-filled hazel eyes as he got to his feet as well. "It's okay," he told Woody comfortingly. "You're safe now."

Woody did nothing but keep his unmoving smile on the young boy's compassionate face.

* * *

I just want to take a moment to thank both GoldenFlither and X's for the Eyes for their amazing, supportive reviews. You guys always manage to make my day. For those others who continue to read my work (thank you, by the way), please be sure to leave a review. It is always very encouraging to hear what people think.

Still to come: _chapitre six_.


	6. And Along Came Michael

Ashley pushed the door open for Michael and herself. "Hi, we're home," she called into the substantial main entrance.

From atop the Scarlett O'Hara staircase, a woman appeared over the balustrade, holding a hairbrush up as it was midway through her lengthy brown hair. "How was it?"

"Good," Ashley replied, setting down the toys on the plush floor mat set near the front door. "Michael found a bag. And before you ask, yes, it was on sale."

The woman laughed, mildly abstracted, as she disappeared again into the room from which she came from.

"Come see, mommy," Michael said excitedly after having followed Ashley's example and carefully placing the cowboy doll down on the carpet. He slipped the red backpack off his shoulders.

"I'm coming," his mother assured. She pulled her hair into a ponytail as she made her way around the banister and down the flight of stairs. "Let's see it."

Michael held up the heavy backpack as high as he could for his mother to see.

"Wow, very nice." She took the bag out of his hands, immediately surprised by the way it was weighted down. Unzipping the bag, she was even more surprised by what she found inside. "Did these come with it or something?"

Ashley found humour in her mother's bewilderment. "We found them on the way home. Just scattered there on the sidewalk."

"Mommy, look." Michael picked Buzz Lightyear up off the floor to show her.

"Oh, it's Buzz," his mother proclaimed.

"They're all Andy's," Ashley continued. "At least, _most_ of them are."

"Andy?" She was even more perplexed at this detail. "Why would he leave them on the streets?"

She shrugged. "'No idea. I'm gonna call him either tonight or tomorrow. He said he was leaving for school today, so he might still be busy unpacking or something."

~ O ~

It was a spacious bedroom, but there was a kind amount of cosiness to it due to the warm orange colour of the walls and the several posters and framed pictures hanging from them. The twin-sized bed, situated near the far corner near the sash window and across the adjacent casement window, had slightly wrinkled covers draped over the mattress, designed of olive green, orange, red, beige and navy blue stripes varying in thickness.

But instead of directly providing for the toys the comfort of his bed, Michael laid out an old blanket on the carpeted section of his maple hardwood bedroom floor. With care, he spread the toys out over the blanket. He created lumps to act as support for the heads of toys like Jessie and Bullseye who would not stand on their own.

All the while, Michael sat cross-legged, comfortable in his orange and navy-blue flannal pajamas, and glanced over them all, both admiring and even lamenting them. His hazel eyes shone with wonder beneath his blonde bangs trimmed just above his eyebrows.

He wrapped his small fingers around the back of Slinky's neck and shifted his head to some extent. "I'm so tired," Michael said, moving the plastic dog about accordingly. With the other hand, he repositioned Mr. Potato Head to his feet and similarly moved him around. "Me too. We've been walking in the desert for five days. And I can use a nice, long bath."

"Look, over there," Michael exclaimed as Mrs. Potato Head, adjusting her arm so it was pointed towards an empty space around whereabouts a small desk nearby. "It's a hotel." He made Jessie hop up and down. "Let's see if they have any rooms for us." He picked up Mr. Potato Head again. "I hope they have a place where we can get cleaned up."

The little boy eagerly fumbled to get to his sock-covered feet and, hurrying to the proper position, grabbed the two corners of the blanket and began to pull. With the toys keeping their places, they were gradually dragged along the floor, the blanket slipping off the carpet and heading towards the imaginary hotel.

Just as Michael had gotten them into the hotel lobby that was the small area behind the desk chair, Ashley came into the room. "'Almost forgot a few," she declared, straining to keep the outstanding toys in her arms. Going down on a knee, she placed Hamm, Rex and Buzz down one by one on the remaining spaces of the blanket.

Michael forgot the hotel and immediately picked up the Buzz Lightyear action figure.

"You like that one, huh," she proclaimed.

He smiled at the toy and nodded.

"Figures." She took the dampened washcloth off her shoulder and held it out to Michael. "'You ready, Space Ranger?"

Again, he nodded, this time smiling up at her, amused by her formality.

"You're gonna be Booster tonight."

"No," he griped mid-laughter. "Booster cleaned the floors."

"Oh, right. He was the janitor. Well, 'still counts." She threw the washcloth at him. The two of them chuckled when it clung to his face and slipped down into his hand. "Now, I want every single one of these toys cleaned immediately. I want to see my _reflection_ in Buzz Lightyear's helmet. Are we clear?"

Michael was laughing.

"I said, 'Are we clear?'"

"Yes," he giggled with a wide grin on his face.

"Yes _what_?"

"Yes, sir!"

Ashley appeared exceedingly offended. "Ex_cuse_ me?" He reached out at Michael in an attacking position, cautious of Buzz still in his grasp. "Do I look like a _sir_ to you?" Michael chortled hysterically as he reeled back, hitting his back up against the side of the bed in a desperate attempt to evade his sister's tickling hands.

"Now get to work!" she ordered, backing off of the zealously laughing boy. She took on a more serious tone as she went back to the doorway. "Any stains you can't get out yourself, leave 'em, okay? Mom or Dad can do it later."

Michael scurried across his room. He pulled a picture book off of his bookshelf with an image of two monsters, one blue and furry and the other green and round, on the hardcover. He brought it back and opened it to the first page, setting it down next to the toys. "You can read this while you wait."

Ashley folded her arms in the doorway from where she watched him and smiled. Realizing she was no longer needed and Michael was already focused on his requested assignment, she left without a word.

"Ladies first," Michael said as Buzz to Jessie. He picked Jessie up off the blanket and set Buzz there in her place. "Thank you, Buzz."

With that, Michael shut the door his wild imagination for the time being and sat himself down on the floor. He lifted Jessie up for his viewing with one hand, the washcloth still in the other. He smiled down on her and began to scrub off the light coating of grime on her face.

~ O ~

"I'm dead serious," Ashley proclaimed into the phone piece. "We brought them all home; I figured you didn't leave them all there on purpose."

Ashley stopped pacing and sat down on the foot of her bed. She held Woody up for her personal viewing. "Michael's got them. He said he wanted to spruce them up for you." She laughed after a small pause as she listened on the other end. "Nah, he loves it. He's happy for the work anyway," she joked. "It's not child labour if they're the ones who request it, right?"

Woody's eyes didn't shine like they used to, she noticed. It was a result of the residue that coated them, but Ashley couldn't help but feel sadness for the old toy she once played with and loved almost as much as his owner did, fearing that they would somehow never shine again.

"It's no trouble at all. I'm just glad they didn't end up at the dump or anything. Shame on your mom." She chuckled again. "But don't tell her I said that."

As she continued to listen, she suddenly looked at her bedroom door. "Mm… I can get him, sure. 'You gonna thank him?" A smile gradually formed as she listened. "Oh, man. That's just gonna make his day. Hold on a sec.

"Michael," she called, waiting for him to respond before shouting back, "Come in here for a second."

Eventually, Michael stumbled into her room, holding onto a now-spotless, almost blemish-free Buzz Lightyear by his bulky torso.

"Andy's on the phone. He wants to tell you something important." She handed him the corded phone.

Michael accepted it excitedly and held it up beside his face. "Hi, Andy," he proclaimed. He set Buzz down on the bed, coincidentally next to where Woody lay on a blanket set over the orange and pink floral bed covers. "Good." Michael spoke more shyly now. He proceeded to play with Buzz and Woody.

Ashley watched him intently, for the most part focused on his changing expressions.

After a series of 'm-hm's and 'yeah's, a sudden bright beam cast over Michael's face. "Really?" he said, timid but ecstatic. After hearing the answer, he looked up at Ashley. "Andy says I can keep them," he announced fervently.

Ashley pretended to be equally surprised. "Wow, that's awesome."

He listened further before shyly saying, "Thank you." He adjusted Buzz so he was facing up rather than his side. "'Promise," he proclaimed. By presumable instructions from the other end of the line, he handed the phone back to his sister after a final goodbye.

"Thanks so much for this," she said into the mouthpiece. "I'll see you on Sunday, right?" She watched with pleasure as Michael raised Buzz into the air and made him fly around the room. "Great. And hey, say 'hi' to the others for me." She chortled lightly at his response. "Okay, bye."

"Die, Zurg! Die!" Michael aimed Buzz's laser at an old, light-brown Teddy bear sitting on the side of her desk.

Ashley smirked and gently pulled him over to her. "Hey, wasn't that nice of him?"

"Yeah."

"That's why I'm gonna do him a favour. I didn't mention anything about Woody, so I'm gonna fix him up and give him back to Andy on Sunday."

Michael was taken aback, as it showed in his sudden troubled expression.

"Is that a good idea?"

Rather than being thrilled about the prospect, he merely nodded his head in silent agreement. "Yeah," he muttered, glancing over at Woody still lying atop his sister's bed.

* * *

Chapter 7 is next (but do I really need to tell you that?) Thanks again to the people who reviewed. They definitely do not go unread, I promise you that.


	7. Doctor

Ashley loved horses.

This was blatantly clear the moment anybody stepped foot into her room, now seemingly, but not overwhelmingly, more empty than before. But the posters of racing stallions and graceful mares remained on her cherry-red walls for her to come home to. Even a small statue of a galloping horse remained on her nightstand next to the lamp.

Ashley smoothed her hand over the bottom corner of one of the posters as she passed by it, re-sticking it to the wall. She bent down by her bed and, from underneath it, pulled out a sewing box. She set it on her bed next to where the Sheriff Woody doll lay quietly with that placid smile on his face, afterwards taking a seat in her desk chair. All the while, she hummed to the soft country music she had playing on her old CD player.

"_Buzz Lightyear to the rescue!_"

The blurry figure of a vigorous little boy quickly passed by her doorway as he darted across the hall, his bare feet thumping against the hardwood floors.

"To infinity, and beyond!" Michael exclaimed.

She laughed to herself as she returned her attention to opening the wooden box to reveal its contents. She began to rummage through them.

"Star Command, I need backup. Hurry! A giant has the Sheriff captive."

Michael now stood in her doorway, holding up Buzz with his laser arm extended, keeping his finger over the button. Buzz's other arm was up with the wrist communicator open. Michael's legs were spread out with his eyes narrowed on his sister, as though _he_ was the space ranger and Buzz was his weapon.

Ashley released an evil laugh. "You cannot stop me, Lightyear," she pronounced, playfully malicious.

"You won't win, Giant!" Michael affirmed, moving Buzz respectively to his voice. "I'll be back with re-forcements." He did not perceive his sister's chuckle at his unknown mispronunciation as he rushed back down the hallway to his own room.

She returned to her box of sewing supplies and pulled out several rolls of thread, all unique shades of yellow. Carefully dragging Woody closer to her, she began to compare each of them to his plaid collar shirt.

_My dad chased monsters from the dark.  
_'_Checked underneath my bed.  
__He could lift me with one arm  
__Way up over top his head._

_He could loosen rusty bolts  
__With a quick turn of his wrench.  
__He pulled splinters from his hand;  
_'_Never even flinched._

Ashley quietly sang along, almost whispering the lyrics. Finally, she found the nearly-perfect shade of yellow. She brought her adjustable lamp in closer to make sure.

_In thirteen years, I'd never seen him cry.  
__But the day that grandpa died, I realized…_

"_Unsinkable ships sink; unbreakable walls break_…" Ashley sang a little more audibly now, drowning out Joe Nichols' voice. More so to subtly catch her little brother's attention as he staggered through the hallway, distracted by his mind's eye.

Michael came back into Ashley's room, reinforcements nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, come over here for a minute."

He complied and hopped up onto her bed beside Woody and the sewing box.

She shifted Woody slightly closer to Michael and held the yellow thread up next to his arm. "Does that look pretty close to you? Or does this one look better?" She replaced the lemon yellow thread with a different roll slightly brighter.

"Mm…" he contemplated, despite it being clear that he could not see a single difference between the two. Still, after deep thought, he ultimately pointed to the original roll of thread. "That one," he proclaimed with much confidence.

"All right then. That one it is."

As she put away the other rolls, Michael adjusted Buzz's legs so they were up in front of him. He sat the space ranger down on the bed, leaning his armoured back against one of the many pillows laid out over the bed.

"So Buzz is our spectator now?" Ashley chortled.

Michael looked at her with an amused smile, not bothering to ask what the word meant. He curiously watched her begin to pull out rolls of blue thread of different tones. His eyes then averted to the Sheriff lying motionless. Arbitrarily, he took the hat off of Woody's head and placed it aside.

"Ah, good idea," his sister declared. "We should prep him for surgery, shouldn't we, Doctor?"

Michael nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah." He climbed off the bed and grabbed part of the landscape-shaded blanket on which Woody lay. "We need to make the bed, nurse."

Ashley laughed out loud. She slipped her hands beneath the blanket, underneath Woody's body. "Whatever you say, Doctor Michael," she chuckled. "Here, let's move him to the surgical room." With that, she circumspectly hoisted Woody, along with the blanket, to her writing table and switched on the desk light.

Enthusiastically, Michael hurried over to Ashley's side, his height creating disappointing difficulty for him to actively participate in the toy's surgery. He pulled the nearby plush stool up closer to the desk and climbed it.

"Okay, Doctor. 'Ready to proceed?"

"Yeah," he decreed happily. "Wait!" He climbed back off the stool and ran out of the room.

Situating her elbow on the desk surface, she leaned her head on the palm of her hand as she waited for her brother to ready himself for surgery. "I need my doctor coat first," she heard him say as he ran from room to room. "And my equipment is here."

She tilted her head so she could look at Buzz; the corners of her mouth tightened. "He's nuts, isn't he?"

~ O ~

The night had finally settled in. Outside of Ashley's bedroom window, not a sign of daylight remained. In fact, the only sign of any light was that of the streetlights that lit their block. The leaves of the large deciduous tree beside their home mildly rustled in the occasional gusts of wind next to her window.

Buzz, from his place on the bed, watched Michael and Ashley hovering over Woody at her desk. With permission, Michael had put on his father's white collar shirt over his pyjamas, having to roll up the long sleeves to his elbows. He wore a plastic toy stethoscope around his neck, the rest of his toy doctor equipment sprawled over the table.

Every so often, Ashley would allow him to intervene with her handiwork, offering him the chance to gently tap Woody's leg with the reflex hammer or provide him with more anaesthetic with the toy needle. But for the most part, all Michael did was watch the thread and needle pass in and out of the doll, trimly repairing the small rips and tears.

Michael took the liberty of adjusting the lump he had created in the blanket to form a support for Woody's head. Ashley smiled as she pulled the needle and yellow thread through his arm one last time. "Two more aught 'a do it."

"Is he almost done?" Michael inquired.

"Not yet, buddy." Once the thread was tightened, she dug the needle back into Woody's arm for the next stitch. "I've still got his leg."

He merely shuffled his play doctor equipment. "Can I do it?"

"Not this time. But I think he needs another anaesthetic. Doctor, if you please?"

Michael picked up the auriscope.

"Nope. The needle, remember?"

There was a quiet knock at the door. "How's the operation going?" their mother inquired, leaning against the doorframe.

"Good," Michael announced fervently, finishing giving Woody the anaesthetic.

She looked over Michael and Ashley to the cowboy doll lying on the blanket. "He's looking good. But I'm afraid it's past one doctor's bedtime."

He shook his head. "No."

"Oh, yes." He laughed as she picked him up despite his effort to evade her arms. "Come on, Doctor; 'time for bed."

"Don't worry, Doctor Michael," Ashley assured him with a salute. "I'll have him finished before morning."

Notwithstanding his discontent with leaving his patient, Michael merely nodded and rested his suddenly-tired body on his mother's. He allowed her to remove the stethoscope from around his neck.

"Don't stay up too late, all right?"

"I won't," Ashley assured her mother. She waved to her little brother, whose tired eyes were fixed on her. "Good night. Oh!" She reached across her bed and grabbed the toy space ranger by the leg. "Don't forget Buzz."

"No," Michael protested. "He wants to stay here until Woody's better. He promised."

Both his sister and mother could not help but smile at this, sending each other amused glances.

"All right, then," she said as she replaced Buzz where he was. "G' night, Michael."

"'Night. 'Night, Woody; 'night, Buzz!" he called out from the hallway as he was carried off to his bedroom.

Ashley shook her head, smile still creasing her face, as she returned to completing the final stitches in Woody's arm.

~ O ~

_I wanna get lost in some corner booth,  
__Cantina, Mexico.  
__I wanna dance to the static of an AM radio._

With Ashley's back turned to him, as she hummed away to the gentle tune playing on the CD player, Buzz found it the best opportunity to somehow subtly adjust his position in order to look over the edge of the desk, unfortunately to no avail. The only thing he could successfully make out was the familiar cowboy hat lying among the scattered sewing supplies.

_I wanna wrap the moon around us,  
__Lay beside you, skin on skin.  
_'_Make love 'til the sun comes up,  
_'_Til the sun goes down again.  
_'_Cause I need you._

Ashley repeated the lyrics in a soft whisper as she worked on patching up the cowboy doll's leg.

_Like a needle needs a vein,  
__Like my uncle Joe in Oklahoma needs the rain,  
__I need you._

Buzz gave up on his endeavour to check on his longstanding friend, not because he couldn't, but because of the unanticipated comfort settling in as he watched the young woman work diligently on repairing Woody's frail figure to the best of her ability. He kept his eyes on her hand moving back and forth, needle and thread between her fingers, as she quietly sang along to the music.

_Like a lighthouse on a coast,  
__Like the Father and the Son need the Holy Ghost,  
__I need you._

Buzz leaned farther back into the pillow. In spite of the sheer joy he felt about now being under Michael's ownership, all he could do was think about what college life could possibly be like for a toy.

* * *

A question that is yet to be answered. Expect the eighth chapter in a little while. Once again, I do encourage you to review; even if it's a mere phrase, it's your feedback that encourages me to continue writing.

I should further point out that the song lyrics are those of 'The Impossible' by Joe Nichols and 'I Need You' by Tim McGraw and Faith Hill. So if you would like to set the tone for this particular chapter, those are two of the songs I particularly had playing as I was writing.


	8. To Make a Child Happy

Michael lazily turned his body over and stretched his arms and legs as far as they could go, breathing out deeply afterwards, all the while not bothering to open his eyes. His lethargic body sagged back into the soft mattress. Eventually, he did decide to gradually open his eyes, attempting to blink away the remaining grains of sleep left. Welcome sunlight poured into his room and across his bed sheets and shined on his wall to give it the golden appearance as opposed to its usual light orange colour.

After finally adjusting his squinting eyes to the morning glow, he turned off of his back onto his other side, where he was pleasantly surprised to see that familiar figure lying next to him on his bed. He smiled upon the toy. "'Morning, Buzz," he exhaled blissfully. Buzz's heroic smile in return prompted Michael to pull him closer.

But even that did not last long; not seconds later, Michael quickly became fed up with lying in bed and threw off the covers. He hopped out of bed and scampered barefoot out of the room, leaving Buzz lying maladroitly against the pillow alone.

Once it was clear, Buzz sat up and looked towards the open doorway. He could hear Michael enter into his sister's room with little to no hesitation or concern of however deep in sleep she was. At this he heaved a heavy sigh, wishing he had been brought along to cure him of his anxiety.

"So?" Buzz turned to Michael's nightstand to see Hamm by the lamp, staring at him on tenterhooks.

"How is he?"

Buzz shrugged his shoulders. "I don't really know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Mr. Potato Head insisted. "You were in there past midnight."

Jessie, who had climbed up onto the unmade bed along with some of the other toys, was staring at the space ranger in anticipation. "She was fixing Woody last night, right? Michael said-" She stopped when Buzz nodded. "So did she finish?"

Buzz returned a gaze of uncertainty.

~ O ~

"'Got your shoes on, Michael? 'Kay, come on."

The front door closed shut, the sound of the lock being turned and secured following not long afterwards. The house immediately fell into an almost dismal silence compared to its usual pleasant liveliness, and yet it was more than a welcome lull in the household.

It also became a very opportune time for several curious toys. Upstairs, Michael's bedroom door slowly creaked open. From behind the red oak flap, Buzz peered down the vacant hallway. Only then did he deem it safe. "All right," he whispered.

Jessie stumbled somewhat to keep her balance when something knocked against her foot. She glanced down at the small, red Hot Wheels car thrusting itself against her boot. She shushed it nervously, but it didn't let up its sheer excitement.

Buzz led the way, Jessie trailed close behind. Together, they stealthily hurried across the carpeted floors down the long, narrow hallway. Ashley's room was almost adjacent to Michael's other than the storage closet falling between them. Buzz pressed his back up against the wall; Jessie following his example. Slowly and cautiously, ever so, he inched closer towards the doorway.

"Oh, for crying out loud," came Potato Head's impatient voice from Michael's room. "Would you just check already?"

Jessie did the honour of sending the group of awaiting toys a glare as Buzz went ahead and pushed the already mildly-ajar door open further to take a gander. He saw the familiar sightings: the horse posters, the pink and orange bed covers, the TY Beanie Boppers lined up on the edge of the morocco headboard, and of course those several boxes and suitcases piled up on top of one another. He furrowed his brow curiously at the sewing box now gauchely set halfway under the bed.

After confirming it inoccupation, Buzz quickened his pace towards the desk. He climbed the plush stool, still there from Michael's previous use, and pulled himself up onto the desk. Jessie, as always, followed him accordingly.

It was Jessie who was first to experience the rapid flurry of emotions at the sight of him sitting up, leaning his back against a tall, study object, undisclosed due to old knitted eiderdown draped over it for extra comfort. He patted it with a small chuckle. "'Michael's idea."

Jessie paid no heed and ran over to his side. She threw her arms around the cowboy, her hat falling off behind him by her swift movement going either unnoticed or overlooked.

"How're you doing?" Buzz inquired, pacing around him to his other side.

Woody nodded. "Pretty good." He lifted his right arm after Jessie released him to show off its mended stature. "I didn't know she was that good with the sewing needle."

Jessie scrutinized the stitching that blended in almost perfectly into his forearm. "Let's see the leg." He allowed her to remove the blanket draped over the lower half of him to reveal the equally impressive handiwork done on his left leg.

"How're you guys holdin' up?" Woody finally asked them. "With Michael, I mean."

"He's a dream come true, Woody," Jessie proclaimed earnestly. "He was playing with us even after his mom turned out the light."

Woody chuckled lightly; Buzz smiled.

"We're going to have so much fun with him. Didja know he already has his own cowboy hat?" As Jessie's excitement grew at the thought of the wonderful years that lay ahead of them, the cowboy and space ranger suddenly found themselves becoming more and more disheartened. She eventually noticed this. Her shoulders dropped. "What's the matter?"

Woody glanced over at Buzz sadly. All Buzz could do was return the distraught look.

"What is it?"

The Sheriff looked down at his lap. "Actually, Ashley's taking me back to Andy."

Jessie's eyes gradually grew wide.

"I don't think Andy's realized I'm gone yet, so I guess she just wanted to repay him for…you know, you guys."

Truth be told, Jessie didn't know what to think of this as it showed in her dismayed expression. For a moment, all she did was kneel there watching Woody waiting for her to say something. But trying to comprehend her own outlook on the news was a big enough challenge; speaking at this point was out of the question.

"Jessie?"

Jessie's partly-open mouth closed immediately. She glanced up at Buzz in acknowledgement and gave him a half-smile. "That's great," she finally said, turning to Woody. "I'm happy for you."

"Really?"

"'Course," she averred. Woody sensed the irresolute awkwardness as she leaned forward to hug him once more. "It's just like you've always wanted. Andy's gonna be so glad to see you."

Over Jessie's shoulder, Woody looked over at Buzz still standing by him, forlornly unconvinced of Jessie's zest. Buzz eyed the Sheriff in return, realizing only then that it was his sentiments – the mix of deep sorrow and inward affliction reflecting in his glistening, painted eyes – that were notifying Woody of Jessie's true opinion on the matter.

"You know, Jess," he said, take hold of her forearms and gently pushing her away so she would face him, "Ashley's gonna be coming back and forth a lot. And…Michael might visit sometimes, and he may even bring you, or Buzz, or one of the others along every so often."

Jessie shook her head. "Too many 'might's and 'maybe's in there for me."

"We can keep in touch," Buzz added as he kneeled down to their level. He placed a hand on Jessie's shoulder. "Through notes, perhaps, for when Ashley comes and goes, or even computers if we're careful."

"Boys, I appreciate you trying," Jessie admitted, "But it just ain't gonna cut it."

Buzz and Woody exchanged despondent glances once again.

"Unless…" – Jessie looked back up at Woody – "it's what you really want."

As Woody sat there, pondering as he stared into Jessie's expectant eyes, he came to an important realization of something he had forgotten somewhere along the way of their adventure. He shook his head with a sigh. "It doesn't matter," he affirmed, his voice stern, "what I want. It's whatever _Andy_ wants. If he wants me, he's got me. 'Whatever makes him happy."

It was something he was more or less reminding himself of, but Woody noticed both Jessie and Buzz's heads hanging low in anguish. He knew it was them that needed the reminder. "What's important to you guys is being there for Michael now," he declared, placing a hand on Jessie's shoulder and the other on the back rim of Buzz's space suit. "I can see you're all in good hands."

Jessie closed her eyes at Woody's touch and leaned in, tenderly pressing the top of her hatless head against Woody's. Woody welcomed the gesture, ignoring his hat tilting towards the back of his head. Buzz found himself in a position of being able to do nothing but watch the two silently try to bring comfort to one another, failing miserably as all their contact seemed to do was remind them of the joyous times ahead they would not be sharing together. All the same, Buzz leaned in as well to join them in their solaces, until all three of them were huddled close around Woody's pretend infirmary bed.

"We'll see each other again someday."

Buzz nodded, head still pressed lightly against Woody's and Jessie's. "I'll make sure of it, cowboy."

* * *

The shortest chapter, definitely, but it seemed like a halfway-decent place to end it. There should be a couple of more chapters to go, depending on whether or not I split the next one into two parts. But hey, who cares, right? As long as I publish the silly things.

Chapter 9, coming up. Thanks so much to GoldenFlither (you especially for your constancy), Dmwcool1, Erin and Yin7 for your reviews. They're very much appreciated.


	9. Farewell, Old Friend

"Come on!" Buzz Lightyear shouted over his shoulder. "This way!" He led the Sheriff, who struggled desperately to keep up with fast-paced space ranger, down the lonely stretch of steel-bordered hallway.

Straight ahead was a doorway, which enthused them both. An exit, they prayed.

"Buzz!" Woody cried.

An angry-looking enemy trooper hastily stepped out from behind the corner, laser gun aimed at them.

Buzz positioned himself into a defensive pose. "Get behind me," he commanded. Woody immediately complied as the space ranger lifted his laser arm and fired at the enemy. The crimson glowing blast hit him in directly the face, knocking him off of his feet and rendering him unconscious.

Woody and Buzz reeled back when they noticed the door they were targeting for their escape began to judder in an aggressive effort to be pried open from the other side.

"Let's go this way!"

Buzz nodded and ran by Woody's side down the adjacent, narrow passageway to evade the enemy troops now approaching from both ends of the main hall. That was when they came across a ladder. "Up here." Buzz led the way up the ladder, Woody not far behind him. The rungs were widely spaced-out, but they managed nonetheless.

Amidst the frantic hustle to get to the top and create the appropriate distance between themselves and the henchmen, Woody's hat slipped off of his head and dropped down to the ground below. He watched it in deep hesitation.

Meanwhile, Buzz had made it to the top. He stared over the edge at the tentative Sheriff. "Woody, come on!"

"Hang on a second!" he shouted back before scurrying back down the ladder.

"What are you doing?" Buzz was frenetic.

Woody wasted no time; he jumped off of the second last rung and picked his hat up off the ground, securing it back onto his head.

"Hurry!"

As quickly as he could, he began again his climb up to where Buzz awaited him anxiously.

When he reached the top, Buzz raised his laser arm once again and fired at the ladder, destroying it in seconds. "Let's go." Woody nodded, and the two hurried off.

For a while, they just ran around, unsure of where to go, apprehensive at the sound of the henchmen finally finding another method of reaching them from where they were at ground level. It seemed utterly hopeless until…

"Buzz, over there," Woody proclaimed, pointing to the small, circular opening in the wall nearby. They ran over to it and looked down the steep slope.

"Woody, we can't go down there. It's too dangerous."

They spun around at the sudden, heavy sound of steel doors crashing open violently, followed by the thumping of boots against steel. At the other end of the hallway, the shadows of dozens of enemy troops appeared as they closed in on them both.

Without further delay, with both hands, Woody grabbed the rim of the opening and sat down at the edge of the long, narrow chute. "We don't have any other choice!" And with that, he let go of the edges and began his rapid descent down to potential safety.

. . .

If there was one sound in the world – in the whole universe – that they could listen to forever and a day, it would be the sound of a child's laughter. Their synthetic ears were graced with such a charming resonance as Michael vigorously slid down the wave slide, holding Woody in his lap. All seriousness returned when his feet hit the ground. He stood up and turned to look at the top of the homespun swing set made out of wood. "Come on, Buzz," he proclaimed, swinging Woody's now-repaired arm in a beckoning manner to encourage the space toy forward. "You can do it."

Buzz was standing up straight, hands at his adjustable torso, positioned in a way so he had a clear view of Michael setting Woody down in the grass before scurrying around the slide to the arch ladder for him.

"Michael," called a deep voice. Michael was halfway up the ladder when a tall, lanky man appeared from behind the screen door of the house. His tie was ineptly loosened from around his neck, and his dirty-blonde hair was somewhat tousled. "Michael, dinner's ready."

"'Kay," Michael called back distractedly. He reached the top of the tower and crawled towards where Buzz stood near the edge of the small, enclosed area. But rather than sliding down right away, he began to mumble incoherently while moving Buzz around in his place, as though Woody and Buzz were still conversing from a distance.

Before he realized it, the lanky man was standing directly by the play set, holding his hand out for the distracted boy's. "C'mon, buddy. We're all waiting for ya."

"Can I eat here, daddy?" Michael insisted, holding Buzz up.

"Nuh uh; not tonight. It's Ashley's last day, remember?"

Michael nodded understandingly, although still displeased with the prospect of putting Woody and Buzz's adventure on hold. Hazel eyes on Buzz Lightyear, he realigned his plastic legs so they were straight and held him by the edge where the elevated wooden floor became the slide.

Shaking his head with a smile, Mr. Ryan was able to reach far enough to lightly grab Michael and tickle him at his midsection. "Let's go, Space Ranger. Dinner time."

"I wanna come down the slide," Michael said through a giggling fit, evading his father's hands. Without waiting for approval, he adjusted himself, bringing his legs forward so they were over the bright yellow slide and grabbed Buzz from beside him. "I'm coming, Woody," he shouted, grasping securely onto Buzz by the torso, just as he began his descent. His feet landed not far from where Woody was sprawled over the grass waiting for him. Michael picked the Sheriff up off the ground. "You did it!" Woody's limbs swung from the excited motion. "We gotta hurry, or we'll miss the truck."

Michael screamed when he was rapidly picked up from his crouched position over the toys and hoisted up over his father's shoulder. Mr. Ryan wrapped an arm around his boy's legs to secure him there, chuckling at Michael's hysterical laughter. "Dinner!" he insisted, exaggeratedly impatient. Michael laughed as he was carried towards the house, keeping a firm grip on the two toys. In his mind's eye, he concluded Buzz and Woody's adventure by having them begin their space flight back home to Earth, where they and their friends lived happily ever after.

~ O ~

Her parents were watching the news downstairs – something about reports of a spotting of a floating house, or something ridiculous like that. As Michael brushed his teeth, Ashley wandered around the second floor of her home. She was bored stiff, having finally finished packing her things, but found herself reminiscing in the back of her mind as she glanced the house. Funny how she imagined herself missing even the indoor plant and the framed Trisha Romance picture on the hallway wall.

She passed her own room – sick of looking at her own walls, and instead entered Michael's. He had not yet kept his word to his mother; although he had promised to always put his new toys away after playtime, there they were, scattered around the room on pause from a creative storyline that somehow called for Hamm to be a passenger on the back of one of Michael's toy pickup trucks and Mr. Potato Head's plastic glasses to be on his face.

She sat down on the foot of his bed and then glanced over at where the cowboy doll lay on the bed, one of his legs draped over Bullseye's girth. Watchful of the stirrups in which his boots were still in, she slipped him off of the saddle, for some reason proudly stroking Bullseye's mane as she did so, before pulling the cowboy to her. His feet settled on her lap as she held him there, angled so he was facing up at her.

After a moment of doing nothing but that, Michael hurried into his room, wiping his sleeve across his mouth to dry it. He smiled upon the sight of her. But his childlike, ingenuous concern for her showed in his wide eyes quickly afterwards. "Ashley?"

Ashley was scarcely conscious of her tears until she heard that innocent tone of uneasiness in her brother's voice. She very rarely showed weakness in front of him; discomfort in him from her state was a given. She quickly wiped the edges of her eyes, clearing them of their dampness as best she could.

Michael came up directly in front of her. He raised his arm and reached in an attempt to tuck a hanging strand of her long hair behind her ear. "It's okay," he said softly.

She tried to get a hearty laugh out, which became genuine with Michael doing his best to bring her comfort. "Sorry, pal," she said. "I'm all right."

Even the four year-old was unconvinced of this, but knowing better than to argue otherwise, he instead glanced down at Woody in her lap. He snickered when she held him up and made him hop across her lap towards him.

"Are you gonna miss me?" she asked him, replacing the Sheriff back where he was on her thighs.

Michael nodded. With her playful tone, she had meant for it to lighten the mood. But when Michael leaned in to hug her at the waist, Woody trapped awkwardly between their bodies, the tears started to return. She embraced him in return. "I'm gonna miss you, too," she murmured into the top of his head.

When the embrace was broken, Michael, after a look of hesitation flashed in his eyes, scurried over to the accent chair on which his Jessie doll was sitting on the armrest of. He seized her tenderly and carried her back over to the bed. Giving the cowgirl one final glance, he finally held her up to his perplexed sister.

Ashley accepted the doll, mystified.

"I don't want you to be lonely there," Michael explained.

At this, Ashley's glossy eyes widened. In a mere second, the shock melted away along with her heart. She looked from the doll to Michael with emotions even she couldn't decipher. "Oh, come here." She brought him in for another embrace, which he willingly returned. "I love you so much," came a whisper. Jessie's free limbs swayed from Ashley's grasp on her.

"No." She sniffled. "You keep her." Without a second thought, she handed Jessie back to him.

"But Andy's taking Woody. You…" He trailed off when Ashley smiled warmly at him.

"It's different with them," she said, rubbing his head. "It's a little complicated. But don't worry about it, all right? I'll be okay."

Michael nodded in appreciation of his sister's honesty, but he still looked at Jessie, still somewhat hesitant. However, ultimately contented with the prospect of having a cowgirl doll to play with, he pulled her close to his chest for a hug.

"But you promise that, when I call, you'll be there to talk?"

A sincere smile finally returned to Michael's face. "Yeah."

"I'm serious. I don't care how busy you get with kindergarten. When I call, you'd better be there."

"'Kay," he said through a laugh when she lightly nudged him with tickling fingers in the stomach.

~ O ~

"Let me take it, dad."

"Don't worry about it; I've got it."

Michael stepped out onto the porch and watched his father and sister lugging out the remainder of her things to their burgundy family van. He stumbled to the side and out of his mother's way when she came out of the house from behind him with two more bags.

"Ashley, did you want this whiteboard?"

"No, I've already got two; I told you that already."

"It could come in handy. Bring it anyway."

The young boy observed silently from the front porch, the end of his thumb pressed against the side of his closed mouth. To his chest, he clung onto Woody, legs dangling near Michael's midsection. Michael glanced down at him, where the only view he got of him was of his hat.

From the second-story window, to the bustling family's oblivion, several toys made themselves visible in order to have a clear view of the near-pandemonium occurring below.

"That's it, right? Did you check your room?"

"Three times, mom," she chuckled. "Let's go now."

"All right. Michael, come on."

The toys watched Michael as he became visible from beneath the rooftop that covered the porch. More particularly, they tried to catch a glimpse of their friend being carried away in his arms. Bullseye couldn't stop himself from whinnying quietly when he caught sight of Woody's yellow plaid arm swing out, becoming visible for only a mere millisecond.

Mrs. Ryan pulled open the sliding door as her husband slammed the trunk door shut. "In you go."

"I wanna bring Buzz," he suddenly said.

"I already said 'no', Michael. You're not going to have time to play, anyway."

Without another word about the matter – much to Buzz's disappointment – Michael climbed into his car seat. He set Woody in his lap, hugging him close to his torso, after his mother finished with the straps of his seatbelt.

The rest of the toys in the window at last managed to perceive a full view of Woody resting comfortably in Michael's lap. His head just happened to be tilted slightly towards them. Just before Mrs. Ryan heaved the door shut, just in case of the slight chance that Woody could see him, Buzz raised his hand to give him the customary Vulcan peace sign. "Farewell, old friend," he said, softly.

When that door finally shut, blocking their view of the Sheriff for good, the toys found that they still couldn't turn away. And so they watched the car drive away and disappear at the end of the stretch of road around the corner.

~ O ~

The night was quiet in Michael's dark, empty room. Buzz sat by the digital clock on the nightstand, at this point watching the glowing numbers change by the minute. Outside, the moon shone its white light through the window, where Rex, Slinky and Bullseye stood watch.

Across the room, he saw that Jessie was uninterestedly flipping the pages of one of Michael's picture books with a small, fish-shaped flashlight that lit when you pushed against its fin. Next to her was the small Hot Wheels car that seemed to have taken a shine to her earlier, now keeping her company in the more sympathetic manner of just parking itself there by her side. The other toys, ones that had been with Michael for a longer time, had made a point not to bother them as they waited for the return of their young owner.

"Hey, everybody! They're home!"

Rex's voice immediately initiated a stampede of Michael's newest toys. They all scurried towards the window sill.

Indeed, Rex's words were of truth as they all stood and watched the familiar van quietly pull into the driveway. The headlights switched off as the engine went silent, almost a deeper silence than the one they had been in before the family's arrival.

Mrs. Ryan was the first to exit from the passenger's side. She moved over to the rear sliding door and pulled it open as inaudibly as she could.

"'Anybody see?"

Buzz was squinting through the darkness. He managed to make out the figure of Mrs. Ryan, after fumbling with the seatbelt, lifting a heavy-eyed Michael out from the car seat and caressing him. His head rested against his mother's shoulder. In his hands, he held nothing.

"Is he there, Buzz?"

The space ranger didn't have the heart to answer the lingering question. He immediately regretted the discussion they'd had about the possible idea of Andy knowledge of Woody's absence and initial intentions.

"Did you get everything?" they heard Mrs. Ryan mutter to her husband as he came up behind her with a few empty bags and a cardboard box.

Mr. Ryan nodded as he did a brief search of the back seat of their van before pulling the door shut for her. "That's everything."

Any hope that was left in the toys' eyes instantaneously vanished. Bullseye and Slinky lowered their heads; Rex's small, fiddling hands dropped down, and Hamm and Potato Head exchanged despondent looks. They desolately watched Mr. Ryan lead them into the house.

"Come on," Hamm said to the others, returning to his place on the nightstand.

Slowly, the rest of them scattered to their places to await their owner, coming over their sadness and remembering their purpose. Jessie, who was last along with Buzz to begin their return, glanced sadly over at the space toy before jumping off of the window sill and hurrying back to the toy chest.

Letting out a sigh, Buzz followed his friends' example and hurried over to the bed at the sound of the front door swinging open downstairs. He lay himself down in his place on the twin-sized bed, awaiting Michael to give him comfort when need be.

All that was left now was for him to be there for his new owner for as long as he was wanted. It was a promise to Michael and to his best and true friend he intended to keep. And that alone was enough to bring a sincere smile to his face as he heard those footsteps coming up the stairs. As empty as the future looked at this point, he knew that, when the sun rose tomorrow, completeness would return in the form of a child's love.

* * *

So much for splitting this chapter into two. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed it.


	10. Happy Birthday

"No, light those last." Mrs. Ryan reminded her husband as he raised the candle lighter one of the sparklers sticking high out of the ice cream cake. He nodded and returned to lighting the five candles lined up horizontally to form a border between the words 'Birthday' and 'Michael'.

A slightly hefty, bearded young man walked around them, holding up his handheld camera. "Should I turn the lights off?" When Mrs. Ryan agreed with a 'thank you, Brad', he went ahead and switched off both the living room and kitchen lights, leaving only the glow of late-afternoon/early-evening daylight streaming through the windows to light up the packed house full of friends and relatives.

"Okay, here we go," Mr. Ryan said after lighting the third and final sparkler. He quickly picked the cake up off the kitchen counter and, steady with his pace and being sure to avoid their young, enthusiastic pet Maltese running around his feet, started his way into the living room. "_Happy birthday to you,_" he and the bearded man began to sing before the rest of the large family enthusiastically joined in.

All the while, Michael, who sat at the centre of the large dining room table at which the entire family was gathered around, smiled towards the cake as it neared his place. The song ended on a high, disharmonized note and was followed by a stream of cheers and applause.

"Make a wish, buddy," his mother proclaimed.

On the second floor, things were slightly less fervent. Birthdays and Christmas were always tense times of the year; they all knew that from the very start. However, despite the natural tension Michael's toys always underwent, experience taught them that Michael's fidelity was no different from Andy's. It had only been two months since they'd arrived, and even Michael's preschool toys had been more than just accepting of them.

But still, Buzz felt the pressure to ensure them of it. During an era where all sorts of electronic entertainment reigned in the art of child occupancy, tensions raise higher than when Andy was growing up. Still, they were lucky enough to have an owner whose parents didn't believe in videogames. So there he sat at the edge of the raised walkway that formed the hall of the second floor, the darkness concealing him from sight, thankfully not enough for his space suit to glow, but for him to feel free to dangle his plastic legs over the edge through the wooden bars of the handrail.

In silence he sat and waited for them to get to present time. Caught up in a thoughtful moment as he watched Michael blow out all of the candles in one large breath after pondering over his wish, he didn't even hear Jessie coming up from behind him until she sat down cross-legged next to him.

"'Anything yet?" she asked him.

Buzz shook his head. "They're just about to cut the cake."

Jessie joined him in watching Mr. Ryan hold Michael's hand around the grip of the knife and press the blade down into his birthday cake. "'You think he'll get that model rocket ship he wanted?"

"Possibly. It's the only thing he really asked for."

Jessie nodded distractedly. "I hope he gets it."

The two of them fell into silence when the family and friends of the Ryans erupted into laughter at something Michael's older cousin, Brad, joked about. Michael pretended to understand it and smiled widely before taking a bite out of the fudge and chocolate crunch, his favourite part of the ice cream cake.

Buzz chuckled at their intent single-mindedness after a long moment of stillness while watching the family drolly interact. "It's times like this I wish Sarge and the troops were around," he admitted in an attempt to direct their focus elsewhere.

It didn't work. Jessie looked onwards, only nodding to at least seem responsive.

"Jessie," he said consolingly, "you're not worried, are you?"

After a moment, one thankfully shorter than the amount of time it took Michael to ponder over his birthday wish, Buzz was pleasantly surprised to see the cowgirl smile sincerely and look at him directly in the eyes. "I guess I'm not," she concluded for herself.

Buzz returned the smile and took her hand in his.

~ O ~

An excited gasp escaped Michael when he tore away enough of the colourful wrapping paper to expose the image of a model rocket ship on the cover of the large, cubic box. "Oh, _wow_!" Michael cried cheerfully, turning the box around so he had a clearer view of the picture. A chorus of similar reactions sounded throughout the rest of the relatives.

From directly beside him at the dining table, the older, silver-haired man smiled warmly at him and playfully rubbed the back of his head, tousling his hair. "You and I are gonna make that together, all right?"

Michael nodded his head eagerly. "Thank you, grandpa," he said courteously. He leaned over, careful of his place on which he stood on the chair, and wrapped his arms around his grandfather's neck. "Can we do it now?"

"You can make it later, 'kay, buddy?"

From atop the second floor hallway, Buzz and Jessie, now much more relaxed and unperturbed as they watched Michael open his gifts, glanced over at one another when the rocket ship was placed down on the floor behind the birthday boy and the next gift was brought forward. "It didn't look that big in the catalogue," Jessie declared.

Buzz shrugged his shoulders as they returned their indirect attention to the next gift. This one was rectangular prism-shaped and much smaller relative to the box for the rocket ship – about the size of a shoe box, and covered with blue wrapping paper with pictures of colourful balloons all over it.

"Who's that from?" asked a young woman.

"Oh, isn't that one from…" Brad, the man with the camera trailed off and looked towards Ashley, who sat at the opposite end of the table from Michael. She raised a finger over the zealous smile her lips formed, silencing her older cousin.

Mrs. Ryan peeled the envelope off from atop the box. She pulled out the card with the image of two Maltese dogs sitting close together on a sheet. "Aw, it's Mickey and his girlfriend," she laughed, showing the cover of the card to the family, who also openly showed their own expression of admiration.

Michael readily pulled the box over closer to him, anticipation rising as his mother began to read the message inside.

"'Dear Michael,

"'Have a very happy fifth birthday. I'm sorry I couldn't come back to tell you in person, but hopefully my present to you makes up for it. You're growing up to be a very handsome young man, and I feel very lucky to know you. I trust you're taking good care of Buzz and the others…'"

Buzz and Jessie's eyes went wide; they turned to each other in bewilderment.

"'At least that's what Ashley tells me, and of course, she's never wrong.'"

Brad exaggeratedly laughed out loud. Ashley protruded her bottom lip at the camera he quickly pointed towards her. The family shared the laugh.

"'Anyway, so I thought you should probably complete your collection of super-amazing toys with this. Treat him well, which I know you will. Have a great birthday. Your pal, Andy.'"

They had suspected, but hearing that name caused Buzz and Jessie's bewilderment to turn into near-disbelief. The singe of hopelessness healed so quickly, it began to overwhelm Jessie. Buzz scooted closer to her and held her hand, all the while watching Michael excitedly hover over the box and begin to rip off the wrapping paper, paying no heed to Ashley's brief explanation to her curious relatives on who Andy was.

"Buzz," Jessie finally forced out. But Buzz just squeezed her hand tighter.

Finally, Michael ripped away enough to be able to remove the lid of what appeared to be shoe box. Buzz immediately reminded himself that newer toys are nearly always pre-packaged. Mrs. Ryan took over the task of peeling off the tape that secured the lid to the box when Michael struggled.

"What could it be?" his mother said enthusiastically, removing the lid once the last of the tape was removed, revealing what was inside.

Buzz and Jessie's breaths got caught on their throats at Michael's joyous cry:

"Woody!"

And indeed, there he was. Michael pulled him out with his hand around the plush torso, the ring of the pull-string resting against Michael's index finger. His boot-covered feet swung back when Michael swiftly brought him close for an embrace.

The family's harmonized reaction to the unique gift was ignored as the two toys stared in a deep state of dazed astonishment. A feeling familiar to them returned of a blaze of glory, one that had not left them since those couple of months ago, but just returned to them in a different manner. However, as Michael, rather than placing Woody among the other gifts from the immense group of friends and relatives, hugged Woody close to him as the next gift was brought forward, that small portion of emptiness left in their lives became full again.

Jessie shot to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Buzz inquired as he watched her scamper off.

She turned to him, smiling in a way he remembered seeing just before Woody had broken the news of his obligatory departure back in Ashley's room two months ago. "To tell the others," she pronounced. She gleefully slapped her hat tighter down onto the top of her head. "'Sides, I've seen all I needed to see."

Buzz smiled, staring over his shoulder as she excitedly hurried back to Michael's room. He returned his attention to the bustle downstairs. What widened his satisfied grin was, as Michael pulled out the expensive-looking royal-blue sweater from a gift bag, the divided attention the birthday boy was also giving the cowboy doll resting affectionately over his arm.

~ O ~

"Trey, Sarah, time to go."

"Michael, come say goodbye."

Michael set Woody down on his bedroom floor and got to his feet. Instinctively, his two young cousins followed his example after setting Buzz and Slinky down, although visibly disappointed with the idea of ending their playtime with Michael's toys. Still, the three of them abided by their mothers' instructions and scampered out of the room.

As soon the coast was clear, hearing the family say their 'thank-you's and 'goodbye's downstairs, Woody unfroze and pushed himself up off the floor. In a small daze at first, he quickly came back to reality when he was suddenly thrown back by the force of somebody jumping at him. The tightness of the arms wrapped around him added to the sudden difficulty to breathe steadily. But the sight of that red braid falling down her back turned his bemusement into pure delight.

It wasn't long before they were all gathered around him, showing their own style of exhilaration at his arrival. Bullseye was licking his face while Slinky had stuck his head in under his arm, resting it against his body. Rex found that his bulky stature did not allow him to get too close without knocking other toys over, so all he did was hop from one foot to the other in excitement, clapping his tiny hands together.

As even Mr. Potato Head became fanatical to see the cowboy, Buzz sat humbly in the place he had been set down, the smile on his face growing the longer the toys continued to hover around their old friend.

Woody eventually found the opportunity to stand when the toys backed away to get a good look at him, pleased grins never leaving their faces.

"So, Woodster, how was college?"

"Yeah. 'Get any smarter?"

Woody chortled. Just to see those ecstatic faces alleviated any of the sadness left in him after Andy finally set him in that box and concealed him in the darkness.

"Oh, Woody," Jessie suddenly gasped. "Andy…"

Without any hesitation, Woody shook his head. "It's all right, Jess," he assured her. And they all knew he meant it. After all, the cowboy knew that it would not be the last time he would cross paths with one of his favourite deputies.

Buzz finally stepped forward, making eye contact with his long-time friend. He extended his arm out towards him with a firm grin. Woody smiled in return and accepted the space ranger's hand for a congenial handshake.

"Welcome home, Sheriff."

* * *

And so marks the end of _A Place to Call 'Home'_. I very much hope you enjoyed it. Thank you so much for all of those who reviewed; you guys are the reason I continued this story.


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